Samsara
by sistersgrimmlover
Summary: Samsara:  noun  The cycle of death and rebirth to which life in the material world is bound.  Everyone is born twice. Not once. Not three times. But twice.
1. Prologue

**Title: **Samsara

**Pairing: **HP/LV(TMR), HGRW, DMLL, RBSL, past and one-sided GWHP

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or anything like that. I own nothing. Except for the plot. Note, to everyone. This starts in the middle of Harry's fifth year. So, be prepared for a bitchy Umbridge. I should be working on 'Inside My Mind', my other fanfic but I'm too lazy. I've taken liberties with people's birthday.

**Note: **This is just the prologue to a story that popped in my head during my Chinese class…yeah, I take Chinese and surprisingly, it's much easier than my Goddamned Trig class. And please, make sure you know that Cleopatra of Macedon should not be confused with the Pharaoh Cleopatra. I've taken great liberty with marriages from the past and such so bare with.

Samsara

By: Sistersgrimmlover

**Prologue**

_Excerpt from The History of the Ancient Macedon Kingdom_

Conquering one country is an amazing feat in itself but to conquer Persia, Egypt, and most of Asia is a miracle in itself. Alexander the Great, arguably, was the greatest king or _basileus _of Macedon in the kingdom's history.

The young king whom died at the age of 32 was described as rash with a violent temper and had an impulsive nature about him. He was stubborn and did not respond well to orders, especially if they came from his father. Alexander's relationship with his father generated the competitive side of his personality; he had a need to out-do his father, as his reckless nature in battle suggests. While Alexander worried that his father would leave him "no great or brilliant achievement to be displayed to the world", he still attempted to downplay his father's achievements to his companions.

His mother had huge ambitions for Alexander, and encouraged him to believe it was his destiny to conquer the Persian Empire. Indeed, Olympias may have gone to the extent of poisoning Philip Arrhidaeus so as to disable him, and prevent him being a rival for Alexander. Olympias's influence instilled huge ambition and a sense of destiny in Alexander, and Plutarch tells us that his ambition "kept his spirit serious and lofty in advance of his years".

Despite, his forceful personality, there was a softer side of the great man who conquered and brought together countries that will most likely never be together in a single again. He was perceptive, logical, and calculating (traits that he taught his younger sister, Cleopatra of Macedon, who was just as ruthless as he). He had a great love for learning, was intelligent, and rational. These traits led to his success as a general and can be further proved his solving of the legendary Gordian knot.

However, in the years before his death at the age of 32, Alexander began to exhibit signs of paranoia and megalomania. His extraordinary achievements combined with his own ineffable sense of destiny and flattery of his companions may have caused this recent development. During this time, he was closest to one Lord whom didn't fight but accompanied Alexander everywhere. The young lord whom seemed ageless was of the name, Adonis Karatasos.

Even after Alexander the Great's death, Lord Karatasos continued to mourn until his own death, thirty years later.

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><p><em>Моето име е Александар Велики. Ова е мојата приказна.<em>

_Moeto ime e Aleksandar Veliki. Ova e moJata prikazna._

_I am Alexander the Great. This is my story._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I really should be writing the next chapter for my other story, Inside My Mind, but this idea just popped into my head and it's so different than most fics. I don't think anyone has ever thought of this twist on an old cliche, which makes me excited. I was going to do a Founders reincarnated fic with this name but I decided to put that on hold and then I had a dream about this. So, I'm doing this instead. Harry is most definitely involved!


	2. Chapter 1

**Title: **Samsara

**Pairing: **HP/LV(TMR), HGRW, HGBZ, DMLL, one-sided GWHP

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or anything like that. I own nothing. Except for the plot. Note, to everyone. This starts at the beginning of the entire story, including first year. I should be working on 'Inside My Mind', my other fanfic but I'm too lazy. I've taken liberties with people's birthday.

**Note: **ALSO, ONCE MORE WITH FEELING: I'M TAKING A LOT OF LIBERTIES WITH HISTORY! So, please ignore the slight inaccuracies with marriages and appearances. Oh and a lot is taken from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling and the Ollivander scene is a modified movie scene. Ha...more original stuff is coming up after this chapter. Sorry for the repetition but it needed to be done.

Samsara

By: Sistersgrimmlover

**Chapter 1**

"_Alek! Aleksandar!"_

_He turned, almost unwilling. He wondered who this Aleksandar fellow was and he wondered whom the voice belonged. The voice sounded like bells and was so sweet sounding. It also sounded younger than him._

"_Alek! Griffin, I found you!"_

_A small girl that looked seven or eight jumped on him, wrapping her arms around him. She had bright hazel eyes and thick curly auburn hair. He smiled down at her and hugged her back. There was coughing sound._

"_I __**believe**__ that the young prince has a __**lesson**__."_

_Princess Kleopatra pulled back, sheepishly and she looked down at the ground as the strict Leonidas chastised her without words. Leonidas sneered at the girl and turned back to his charge. Aleksandar turned his body and he looked over at the reflecting plates._

_Green eyes stared back, just as vibrant as always. But, his hair did not stand up messily as he typically did. It fell in curls around his head and one curl fell into his face. He brushed it aside and patted Kleopatra's head. She smiled up at him, innocently, completely forgetting about Leonidas._

"_I will play with you later. I must get back to my lessons, Kleo" the nine or ten, soon to be eleven, year-old said._

_Kleopatra nodded, sadly and she turned to Leonidas before dropping into a respectful, though definitely not submissive, curtsy._

"_Please continue. I apologize for interrupting. I'm going to find __Мајка," Kleopatra said. _

_The nine or ten-year-old nodded as she walked off with an unnatural grace. Leonidas cleared his throat and looked down his large hooked nose at the boy._

"_Now, we will continue your lesson."_

_**BOOM!**_

_He looked around curiously and in confusion. Leonidas apparently hadn't heard it. He frowned._

"_Leonidas…what was that sound?" he asked, biting his lip._

_Leonidas sneered down at the boy._

"_My Prince, there was no sound. Now, please, focus. The name of the previous king of Macedonia?" Leonidas asked._

_**BOOM!**_

_He flinched again, though he knew to think of the answer, quickly. Leonidas was easy to anger unless Olympias, his mother was around. Then Leonidas did everything to try and please the redheaded beauty._

"_There it goes again…"_

"_Focus!" Leonidas insisted._

_The room was beginning to blur and he looked around, shaking his head. _

_**BOOM!**_

Harry Potter flew up as the loud sound boomed around the room once more. He felt the entire shack shiver and he glanced at the lit digital clock and despite the looming terror a smile lit up his face.

It was 12:01. He was eleven years old.

He looked around and saw his Uncle Vernon, standing with a rifle in his hand. Aunt Petunia trembled behind her enormous husband. Harry was just barely able to see her and could only do so because of her height over her husband. He could catch sight of her horsey face and her lank blond curls.

"Who's there? I'm warning you! I'm armed!" shouted Uncle Vernon.

There was a great pause in the booming. Harry blinked, realizing that it wasn't 'booming' at all. It was someone, someone obviously quite large, knocking on the door. Harry didn't feel compelled to move from his spot, though he was the one closest to the door. His green eyes glowed in the dark, curiosity clear in it.

Suddenly, the door fell forward and hit the ground with a deafening crash.

A gigantic man stood in the doorway. His head was underneath a long mane of shaggy black hair and hanging from his face was a knotted and untamed beard. Black eyes that glinted like beetles stared at Harry, kindly.

The great giant squeezed himself through the doorway and picked up the doorway and pushed it back into place. Harry sat, strangely unimpressed, with the man. He would have been, he knew, once upon a time but at the moment, he only wanted to know why this strange man was in the shack.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea? It's not been an easy journey…"

The man's voice was low and gruff. He crossed over to the sofa, where Dudley sat. The large boy stared in terror, his skin a ghostly white as opposed to Harry's natural golden tone.

"Budge up, yeh great lump!" the stranger said.

Dudley made a whimpering sound and ran to crouch behind his large father, terrified. The large stranger turned towards Harry.

"An' here's Harry. Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

Harry stared at the stranger with raised eyebrows but knew that the man was friendly. He was smiling at him and he had known his parents. His dead parents, as he remembered. Harry opened his mouth to respond but Uncle Vernon gave a loud grunt.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering private property. I can have you reported to the police!" Uncle Vernon shouted, stupidly.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that. They were on an island.

"Ah, shut up, Dursley. Yeh great prune!"

Harry muffled a snicker behind his hand. To further his amusement, the giant reached over and jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands. He bent it into a knot, easily, as if it were made of rubber. He tossed the gun-turned-scrap-metal into a corner before turning a smiling face back to Harry.

"Anyway, Harry. A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here. I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right" the man said.

It took all of Harry's self control to keep the disgust from showing on his face. He didn't want to eat _anything_ that _anyone_ had sat on. He already got abysmal treatment from the Dursleys, but at least, his food had never been _sat_ on.

"Ahh…" Harry said, softly, as the man removed a plain white box from an inside pocket of his large brown jacket.

He handed it to Harry and Harry took the box, graciously. He examined it, carefully. He opened it, deeming that the giant had _not_ sat on it. Inside was a chocolate cake with green icing on it, spelling 'Happy Birthday'. Harry gave a brief smile befoe turning a curious gaze onto the giant.

"Who are you?"

The words had a tint of the most curious accent but the giant didn't seem to notice.

"I haven't introduced myself! Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

Rubeus Hagrid turned away from the boy before he could ask exactly _what_ Hogwarts was.

"What about that tea then, eh? I'd not say no ter somethin' stronger if yeh've got it, mind" Hagrid said, rubbing his hands together.

He didn't get a response, so he turned to the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it. He bent down over the fireplace and his large frame blocked any vision of what he was doing. When he pulled away a roaring and blissfully warm fire was there. Despite it being July, the middle of the summer, it was cold on the small, solitary island.

Hagrid turned and sat down on the sofa and began taking a number of things out of his pockets. Harry raised an eyebrow and he watched the man with an expectant look. A copper kettle, a package of sausages, a poker, several chipped mugs emerged from his pockets before he began to make his tea.

Silence dominated the hut as Hagrid cooked six fat and juicy sausages on the poker. Harry's lip quirked into another half-smile of amusement as he saw Dudley fidget. No doubt, the boy wanted some of the food.

"Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley" Uncle Vernon warned.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fatten' up anymore, Dursley, don't worry" Hagrid chuckled, darkly.

He held out the poker to Harry. Harry raised an eyebrow and wiped two fingers on his relatively clean shirt. The boy delicately took a sausage and successfully didn't flinch at the heat of it. He ate it slowly and swallowed before speaking.

"You still haven't told me who you are. And why you _are_ here" Harry said, his accent slightly more pronounced now.

"Call me Hagrid. Everyone does," Hagrid said, "An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts. Yeh know about Hogwarts, o' course."

"I'm afraid that I do not know of this…Hogwarts. I apologize" Harry said, hesitating over the words 'Hogwarts'.

"_You_ apologize? It's them who should be sorry! I knew yeh weren' gettin' yer letters but I never thought that yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?" Hagrid demanded, sounding rather excited.

"I'm sorry. Where they learned what? I was under the impression that my parents were drunks that died in a car crash" Harry said, politely though endlessly amused.

"A CAR CRASH?" roared Hagrid.

"Yes."

"But yeh must know about yer mum and dad! They're _famous_. You're famous!" Hagrid cried out.

"So, my parents were famous? I am famous? For what exactly?" Harry asked, coolly.

"Stop! Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell him _anything_!" Uncle Vernon commanded.

Hagrid turned annoyed eyes on him and Uncle Vernon cowered back, almost crushing his painfully thin wife. Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror as she realized that the little secret that she had resented Harry for, for ten years was soon to be out.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh. Harry, yer a wizard" Hagrid finished.

Silence reigned in the small hut but all could hear the crashing waves outside. Harry blinked in surprise. His eyebrow raised in confusion, a habit that he always did when he was either disbelieving or confused.

"I'm a what?" asked Harry, his words showing the shock and disbelief.

"A wizard, o' course. An' a thumpin' good 'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter" Hagrid said, withdrawing a yellowish envelope from his pocket.

He handed it to Harry and Harry examined it. It was addressed to _Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-On-The-Rock, The Sea_ in elegant green ink. Harry couldn't hide his smirk at the specific address. He hoped that someone had seen _The Cupboard Under The Stairs_ on his previous letter. It would amuse him so much if his neglectful guardians got into trouble.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"Await my owl. Does she wish for me to accept?" Harry asked.

Hagrid clapped his hand to his head with so much force that Harry was surprised that he hadn't knocked himself out. He didn't seem very bright so Harry wouldn't be exactly surprised.

"I forgot!" he said, pulling a ruffled but live owl from one of his large pockets.

Harry stared at the owl with pity.

Poor owl.

Hagrid scribbled something on a piece of parchment that he had retrieved from his pocket. He attached to the owl before throwing it out to the storm. A small giggle escaped from Harry's lip and Aunt Petunia gave him a strange look.

"He's not going" said an ashen-faced but angry Uncle Vernon.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him" Hagrid grunted.

"A Muggle? What is _that_?" Harry asked, curiously.

"A Muggle is what we call non-magic folk like them. An' it's yer back luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on" Hagrid said, disgust coloring his tone.

"We sore when we took him in that we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard, indeed!" Uncle Vernon shouted in anger.

"You knew? You knew I was a wizard?" demanded Harry.

His tone was one of commanding and his accent was now much more pronounced than before. It sounded decidedly European though what country had yet to be clarified. Hagrid frowned at the sound of it, though obviously the Dursleys were used to it, thinking it was another aspect of his freakishness.

"Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be one of _them_, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that freak house they call a school! Came home ever vacation with pockets full of frog spawn and turning teacups into rats! I was the only one who saw her for what she was—a freak! But for my mother and father it was always Lily this and Lily that. Proud of having a witch, a freak, in their family!" Petunia shrieked.

Her usually pale face was flushed with resentment and her eyes held the slightest hint of regret. Harry was getting angrier the more and more he spoke of his mother. Every time she spoke badly of his mother, he got flashes of a woman with red hair and elegant emerald green robes, gold earrings in her ears and bangles hanging from her thin wrists.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had _you_. And of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as…as…abnormal! And then she went and got herself blown up and we got stuck with you!" Aunt Petunia snarled, finishing her woe is me speech.

"Blow up? Abnormal? _Freak_? _GaJle ti, ti kučka_! You told me they died in a car crash!" Harry shouted, his voice spitting out the curse in rage.

Aunt Petunia actually flinched at his harsh tone. His rage was almost palpable and he looked ready to jump up and attack the woman.

"CAR CRASH!" Hagrid roared, just as angry as he jumped up. The Dursleys scurried into a corner, caught between two centers of anger.

"How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name" Hagrid shouted.

Curious curved his rage and he only wanted to know. He wanted to know what made him so famous. He _needed_ to know. For how was he to survive children that knew whom he was when he didn't even know his _own_ _identity_?

"But why? What happened? _Please_ tell me" Harry said, his voice ringing with a command despite the fact that he said 'please'.

"It begins, I suppose, with…with a person called…but it's incredible yeh don't know the name" Hagrid said, nervously.

"Who?" Harry asked, carefully.

"Well I don't like sayin' his name. No one does. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this who went…bad. As bad you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…" Hagrid started.

He choked over his words and looked unable to say anything more. Harry sighed in exasperation and he gave Hagrid a look.

"Write it down, maybe" Harry suggested or commanded, depending on how you looked at it.

"Nah. Can't spell it. All right—_Voldemort._"

Hagrid shuddered as he said, "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this—this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him — an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway."

Harry agreed that that wouldn't be a good idea. But, he doubted that this horrifying wizard was afraid of Dumbledore, the headmaster of a school. He didn't think that this Voldemort _feared_ Dumbledore but _recognized_ that he was a threat. It was a tactical move, letting others think he feared something, to give them hope. To let them humanize him.

And then strike them when they were getting confident.

Harry felt unwilling respect for this evil wizard.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em… maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' — an' —" sniffled Hagrid, pulling out a dirty handkerchief.

Harry's nose wrinkled in disgust when Hagrid blew hard, sounding like a trumpet.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad — knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find — anyway…You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then — an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing — he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh — took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even — but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age — the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts— an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

As Hagrid's story came to a close, a flash of something that might have once been a dream flashed in his mind.

A beautiful voice, singing a lullaby to him in a language that clearly wasn't English.

Then a flash of green light, the lullaby stopping abruptly.

And then the lullaby was being finished by a familiar and lulling voice before a high and cold laugh was let out, chilling Harry to the bone. And then another flash.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot" Hagrid said, his voice showing his distaste for the Durlseys.

"You shouldn't have" Harry said, quietly.

"Load of tosh! And boy, be grateful we even took you in. I accept there is something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured—" Uncle Vernon shouted, sounding more confident now.

"You're too afraid to even touch me. What makes you think you could cause physical harm to me?" Harry demanded.

Uncle Vernon's face turned purple and he opened his mouth to say something.

"Not one more word" Hagrid warned, pointing a battered pink umbrella at the man's large chest.

Uncle Vernon quieted down and took a step back. No matter how large the man was, Hagrid was at least twice as tall as him and looked like he could crush him. And he was holding an umbrella threateningly. Harry supposed that the fat man had enough sense to back away, to avoid being stabbed with it.

"But what happened to Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Hagrid flinched at the name.

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous, you see. That's the big myst'ry, see. He was gettin' more and more powerful. But somethin' abou' yeh stumped him. Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. I reckon that he didn' have enough human left in him to die. He's out there, too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him" Hagrid explained.

Harry bit his lip, a bad habit that he had from before he could remember. He had always done it during times of confusion or deep thought.

He was a wizard. A wizard. It didn't make sense yet in a very strange way it did. The strange things he did, like freeing to that snake. Even speaking to that snake, which had responded back. That ridiculous haircut that Aunt Petunia had tried to make him go to school with had miraculously grown back into, into the untamable mess that had made her cut it off before.

"See? Of course, yer a wizard. You wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts" Hagrid said, cheerfully.

"Haven't I told you he's not going? He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish…spell books and wands…" hissed Uncle Vernon.

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born.

He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbled—"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER —" he thundered, "— INSULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE — IN — FRONT — OF — ME!" He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley — there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

Harry's lips quivered before he began laughing. Hard. He clutched his sides as he laughed at the terror on Dudley's face.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard, waiting for Harry to calm down. Harry continued to giggle at odd intervals.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."

He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff — one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job."

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic? If you aren't supposed to use magic, why did you?" asked Harry.

"Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?" Harry questioned, his voice commanding once more.

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry.

"You can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' doormice in one o' the pockets."

Harry's nose wrinkled in disgust, though he said nothing.

* * *

><p><em>Enter, stranger, but take heed<em>

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry read it over once more before pushing past the silver doors that the warning was engraved upon.

"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it" Hagrid said.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and Harry walked in, his grace not deterred by his curiosity or wariness. Despite his slight disposition, he had a regal air that he carried himself with.

He looked around at the hundred more goblins who were sitting on high stools behind a long counter. Some were scribbling in ledgers while others were weighing coins in brass scales or examining precious stones. Harry watched in interest and tilted his head.

"Morning. We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's vault" Hagrid said, cheerfully to a free goblin.

"And do you have Mr. Harry Potter's key?"

"Got it here somewhere" Hagrid said, searching his pockets before withdrawing a tiny golden key and handing it to the goblin.

The goblin examined it closely.

"That seems to be in order" he said.

The goblin made to give it back to Hagrid to hold but Harry's hand shot out, expectantly. Hagrid blinked in surprise and Harry tilted his head.

"I believe I will take that, sir. Thank you" Harry said, politely.

The goblin's lips curled into a large smile, exposing sharp white teeth.

"Of course, Mr. Potter."

* * *

><p>Harry stepped into the dusty shop as Hagrid disappeared to go <em>something<em>. He wondered briefly what that 'Hogwarts business' was but quickly dismissed that theory. No, Hagrid, was most likely buying himself something. Harry didn't mind. He was too excited.

At first glance, it appeared that it was a small library or maybe a bookshop. Until you saw the narrow boxes that sat in the bookcases.

Wands, Harry realized.

"Hello?" Harry called to the empty shop.

Suddenly, a ladder slid over towards Harry and hit the side of a bookcase. A thin old man with white shocking hair and pale eyes smiled, serenely, at Harry.

"I wondered when I'd be seeing _you_, Mr. Potter."

Harry watched as the man jumped down and began searching through boxes for a wand for Harry.

"Seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here by _their_ first wands" Ollivander said, taking out a box with gentle hands.

He opened it, slowly and ran an adoring hand over one of his many creations.

"Here we are…well give it a wave" Ollivander said, coaxingly.

Harry did exactly what he said when boxes upon boxes shot out from their proper piles and fell to the ground in a large mess. Harry jumped back at the mess he had caused and he flinched.

"Apparently not…" Ollivander said, taking the wand back from Harry with the same respecting, gentle hands.

"I apologize for the mess" Harry said, slowly.

Ollivander looked at him in surprise. A smile spread across his face and he shook his head.

"No, no. Please do not apologize to me, young griffin" Ollivander said.

Harry blinked in recognition at the nickname and frowned. Ollivander only gave him a soft smile that was reassuring and Harry knew he could trust him. Ollivander climbed the ladder and brought down another wand.

"Perhaps…this" Ollivander said, handing him the wand.

Harry gave it sharp rap and the crystal vase near the side exploded. The flowers floated to the ground and Harry bit his tongue to refrain from apologizing once again. Despite, having the Dursleys for guardians, he had impeccable manners that seemed like they were drilled into him.

It was probably why people thought that the Dursleys were decent people.

"No, no! Definitely not" the wandmaker said, snatching the wand from Harry's hand.

Ollivander wandered to a bookcase before stopping in from a specific box as if something had caught his attention. He pulled a box from the case and looked down at it with a curious look upon his face.

"I wonder…"

He withdrew the wand from that box, reverently and handed it to Harry without a word. Harry touched it cautiously before wrapping his hand around it.

A curious and familiar feeling spread through him and sereneness settled on him, eliciting a blissful gasp. He felt a calming and warm wind spread through the shop. He felt another hand wrap around his own and give a squeeze.

"_Aleksandar…_"

The whisper disappeared as the wind did and Ollivander gave a bright smile.

"It is you…curious…_very_ curious."

"Sorry, but what's curious?" Harry asked.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather. Just one other. It is curious, that _you_ of all people, should be destined for this wand, when its brother gave you that scar" Ollivander said.

Harry could almost feel the invisible hand squeezing over his own and looked at Ollivander. He felt as if the man was trying to tell him something. Something that he didn't quite understand yet.

"And why me of all people? Who owned the wand?" Harry asked, though he already knew the answer to the second question.

He suspected that Ollivander knew that as well.

"We do not speak his name. Though, I'm sure you know him by another. The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. It's not always clear why, though in your case, it might be. But, it is most definitely clear, that we can expect great things from you, for you've done them before. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes…but great."

**Samsara (REPLACE WITH LINE)**

"_Tatko, may I try?" he asked of the man standing in front of him._

_The man with messy dark hair and kind hazel eyes turned to his son. He face was rounder than what Harry could remember. Or so he thought it was rounder…he couldn't tell who was who. Or even who this man was._

"_Boy, none of the finest men could mount him. He's much too big anyway. He will have to go" the man said, harshly._

"_Philip, let the boy try. If he gets hurt, he'll show that he's a man and will tough it out" insisted a man with silvery eyes and short, curly black hair._

_He looked towards the closest thing that he could call and uncle and grinned at him. He could always count on his Uncle Parmenion._

"_Parmenion…" Philip sighed._

"_Philip" Parmenion mocked, playfully._

_Philip rolled his eyes at the man's cheerfulness. Harry somehow knew that if Parmenion had been any other man but his general, he would have been killed instantly. But, this was Parmenion. His father's playmate since perhaps birth. If anyone had the right to mock him, it was Parmenion._

_He probably had the best grasp of who he was anyway._

"_Tatko, please. If I cannot tame it, I'll pay for it myself" he promised._

_Philip's lips twitched into a smile._

"_I'm interested. Start."_

_He turned to the great black horse with the white star upon his brow and approached it slowly. The horse's eyes were wide with the whites showing. He knew it was a bad sign if it was. Its neck was held tensely and its head high, showing its fear. The ears were pricked forward and it was trying to back away from the great shadow that it created._

_He smiled. He knew now, exactly what he had to do. He approached the horse slowly and it dwarfed him. He __**was**__ only twelve._

"_Please calm down. Hush, everything is fine" he reassured the horse._

_He looked down and saw that the horse was a __**him**__. Ah…the horse gave a nasally snort, as if scoffing at what he said. As if everything wasn't fine. He crept up to the horse and ran a light hand down it coat. It kicked forward at him but he dodged the leg cleanly._

"_Turn this way. Turn, please" he said, turning the horse towards the sun._

_The horse turned, slowly but surely. He let the boy's gentle hands turn him and the horse gazed at the boy with dark eyes. The whites had disappeared slowly and it looked down, unable to see the shadow of itself. He ran a hand down the horse's side and it relaxed._

_He jumped up and scrambled on top of the beast. He had to work hard to get up there but he finally mounted the great beast. He felt the other men that had tried to mount the horse, stare at him in disbelief and awe. Parmenion was grinning at him proudly._

_Philip was looking at him with an impressed look. He nodded towards his son._

"_Aleksandar, my accomplished son" Philip said, tearfully. He grabbed his son off of the horse and kissed both of his cheek. Aleksandar grinned._

"_You could've been killed but you didn't back down. You knew you wanted that horse and you got him. My son, when you're king, you'll do the same. My boy, you must find a kingdom big enough for your ambitions for Macedon is much to small for you" Philip said, proudly. Parmenion nodded in agreement and placed an approving hand on his forehead._

"_What will you name him, little Prince?" Parmenion asked. Aleksandar tilted his head before walking around the horse, judging. A sly smile spread across his face as a name occurred to him._

"_Buchephalus."_

:::

**A/N: **I'm proud of this story. I started writing it before but it was really self-indulgent and it was a great idea but I didn't know how to start. At least I do now. Thank goodness. For those asking about the first chapter, Alexander the Great has a lot to do with Harry Potter as you can tell from this chapter. And, Voldemort was mentioned in the first chapter but not as the name you know him by...


	3. Chapter 2

**Title: **Samsara

**Pairing: **HP/LV(TMR), HGRW, HGDM, NLLL one-sided GWHP

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or anything like that. I own nothing. Except for the plot.

**Note: **And please, make sure you know that Cleopatra of Macedon should not be confused with the Pharaoh Cleopatra. I've taken great liberty with marriages from the past and such so bare with. I _should_ be working on Inside My Mind but this kept bothering me…

ALSO, ONCE MORE WITH FEELING: I'M TAKING A LOT OF LIBERTIES WITH HISTORY! So, please ignore the slight inaccuracies with marriages and appearances. Things get _very_ different towards the end of the chapter.

Samsara

By: Sistersgrimmlover

**Chapter 2**

"_Kleopatra, my daughter, come sit with me."_

_She turned at the name, used to being addressed as such in dreams like these. She turned to the beautiful redhead woman who was her mother. Her hair was red in color and flowed to her waist in curls and waves. Her mother could easily be the most beautiful woman that she had ever seen._

"_Yes, Mother" she said in sweet and young voice._

_She looked down at herself and saw bouncy auburn curls touching her hands. She was the same height as she was outside of her dreams and she knew she was about 11 years old. That meant that her brother was 12._

"_Darling, little Kleo, my angel. Do you know, one day, this entire kingdom of Macedon will be your brother's?" asked her mother._

_She nodded, solemnly, and looked up at her mother with hazel eyes. She walked towards her mother and sat on the long lounge and her mother's arm went around her shoulders, bringing her closer to her side._

"_Good. Your brother will be great and so will you. Your brother…is a capable and very ambitious person. He's so very brave and clever. But you, are a woman. And he will need a feminine hand until he is married. And even then, no one will be a capable as you. You will advise him to the best of your ability because you, my darling, are strong" Queen Olympias said._

_She nodded, understanding what her mother was telling her. For Queen Olympias would never lie to her beautiful and darling daughter. Queen Olympias treasured the young girl and treated her like the future queen she was. Everyone adored little Kleo, just as much as Aleksandar._

"_I will help Alek. He will be the great king that he can. But, Mother, is Macedon really big enough for him?" she asked._

_Queen Olympias frowned in confusion._

"_What do you mean by that?"_

"_Father said that Macedon is too small for him. He mounted that beast that no one could. I heard he was grand!" she said, grinning._

_She was ever so proud of her brother and the fact that she had surprised her mother with this little fact. It was ever so surprise her. It seemed that Queen Olympias was all-knowing, though she knew only the gods were all knowing. A proud smile spread on Olympias' face._

"_Then your brother will need you more than ever. When he is King, you must…"_

"_Be prepared. I know, Mother. Always, be prepared."_

* * *

><p>"Mum, I'll be fine!"<p>

"Hermione, I just worry about you…" the female Dr. Granger sighed.

Hermione grinned at her mother and father and shook her head at their worry. Truthfully, she believed it to be completely irrational. She was responsible enough to know what to do and what not to do.

"I know, Mum. I know. I'll miss you both" she said, smiling.

Both Dr. Grangers wrapped their daughter in a hug and waved her off as she walked onto the train, pulling her large trunk along. As she stood on the train, looking left and right at the corridors of the connected cars, she decided to go left. She settled into an empty compartment. It was easy to find one.

The train was almost completely empty. But, it was better to be early than late. Never late.

Hermione pulled out a book, _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_, to be exact. She wasn't sure how long she had been reading about Grindelwald and Dumbledore but she soon found that the train was moving and rather quickly at that. She reached into her trunk and walked to the loo to change, making sure to lock her things.

It was always best to be prepared.

When walking back into her compartment, she was surprised to see a boy with a round-face and flat hair sitting, nervously. Hermione could tell that he felt uncomfortable in a compartment that was already claimed so she decided to take pity on him.

"Hello," Hermione said, smiling.

The boy jumped at her voice and began stammering.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry. Th-there w-w-weren't a-any o-other compartments and no one was i-in this one. I'll l-l—" Neville said.

Hermione's kind smile never faltered. Neville seemed slightly reassured by it, despite Hermione's big front teeth.

"It's all right. You may sit here. I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?" Hermione asked.

The boy stared at her, stunned, apparently, that she had let him sit there. Hermione wondered, briefly, if the boy had been rejected before finding this compartment.

"N-Neville. Neville Longbottom," the boy said.

Hermione nodded and sat down across from Neville.

"Nice to meet you, Neville. It's so exciting, isn't it? Coming to Hogwarts. I believed it was a joke until a professor visited my home. I was so pleased to find out that I was actually a _witch_. The course books are rather interesting and I my entire study char planned out," Hermione said, excitedly.

Neville's eyes widened in confusion and shock. Her carefully practiced British accent had worn away in her excitement and had been replaced by a heavy Macedonian one.

"Y-you p-planned w-when y-y-you're going to study? W-we d-don't even have our timetables yet," Neville said, shocked.

Hermione nodded.

"I've always been told to be prepared. It's never bad to be too prepared," Hermione said.

She was reciting the words that the redheaded woman in her dreams had told her, time and time again. Hermione had heard those two words since she was a little girl and she had somehow, unconsciously, committed them to memory. It was probably the reason for her strange quirks and intelligence. She had studied to be the best and she had even skipped a grade in primary school. She would have been going into Year 8 if she had continued on in her normal schooling.

She had had to practically beg her parents to allow her to go all the way to Scotland. To Hogwarts.

"Oh. I s-suppose I could understand that…w-where's Trevor?" Neville asked, frantically.

Hermione frowned as he began to search his person and he crawled underneath his seat, looking for this…thing called 'Trevor'.

"What is a Trevor?" Hermione asked, curiously.

Neville shot up from under the bench. He had forgotten that Hermione was there and he almost hit his head on the underside of the wooden seat.

"Trevor is my toad! He's always getting away. He's not here!" Neville groaned.

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and she smiled at him, softly. Neville looked at her in surprise and looked rather hopeful.

"Well, come on. I'll go left and you go right. Is that okay?" Hermione asked.

Neville seemed pleasantly shocked about something. Hermione was just about to ask what it was when Neville said something she didn't expect.

"Y-you're r-really going to help me look for Trevor?" Neville asked, softly.

"Friends help friends, Neville.

* * *

><p>Separate, Neville and Hermione hadn't had much success. They had chosen to rendezvous back at the compartment if they couldn't find the toad in twenty minutes. The two were now walking together and were nearing a compartment that Neville had claimed he had checked earlier.<p>

"I-I already b-bothered them…" Neville said.

"Well, Trevor might have moved. It won't hurt to ask again," Hermione said, matter-of-factly.

Neville seemed to take out her explanation at face value. But, there was something…something in this compartment that was drawing Hermione to it. She wasn't sure what it was but there was something or someone here that she wanted desperately to see.

Hermione slid open the compartment door and stared in at the two boys. One had dark hair and the other, bright red hair. They were two contrasting elements but they seemed to fit together in a sense of camaraderie, though they couldn't have know each other for long. Hermione could feel the new and awkward feeling of a new friendship in the air.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," Hermione said.

She realized a moment too late that her tone sounded a bit bossier than it normally did, though she didn't correct her tone. They were obligated to answer her. Hermione had always had a commanding tone that many took for bossy, though it genuinely upset her when they did.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," the redheaded boy said.

Hermione was barely listening. Her eyes were on the wand in his hand. It was a far cry from a new wand but he was brandishing it in a way that Hermione recognized as one of the many wand positions. She looked at him, excitedly. She was barely paying attention to the boy sitting across from him, who was staring at her in confusion.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then," Hermione instructed.

She sat down next to the black haired boy, still not sparing him a glance. She wanted to see magic in action. She hadn't been able to do more than a few spells in the Leaky Cauldron and she had a feeling this boy's wand had been passed down. He was of a wizarding family, so he might know spells that she hadn't even read on yet.

The redheaded boy looked taken aback.

"Er…all right."

He cleared his throat and Hermione watched, impatiently.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Nothing happened.

Hermione resisted the urge to scoff. It was rude and she didn't want to be rude at all.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione said, doubtfully.

The redheaded boy scowled.

"Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard—I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it'll be enough—by the way, I'm—"

Hermione was cut off by the most surprising answer in the world.

"_Kleo._"

Hermione looked up, sharply. Her eyes fixed on the person who had uttered the nickname with a Macedonian accent. She stared at the boy and suddenly he seemed familiar. As if she had known him her entire life.

He had bright green eyes and hair that was in loose waves, as opposed to the curls that she remembered. His skin was as golden as it had always been. He looked a little older than in her dreams but it was still him.

It was still her mother's beloved griffin.

_Her_ beloved brother.

"_Alek…Aleksandar?_" Hermione whispered.

Aleksandar stood from his seat and walked up to her. She was taller than him now, though as far as Hermione could remember, he was a year older.

"_MoJot mal sestra_," Aleksandar said, softly.

Hermione nodded, fiercely, in agreement. A bright smile broke across Aleksandar's face and he pulled her into a tight hug. Hermione hugged him back with as much fierceness and love.

"Harry? Who is she?" the redheaded boy.

The voice broke through their relief and they pulled away from each other, their strong sibling bond reinstated in that one moment. Hermione frowned at the redheaded boy and then looked back to her Aleksandar.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, curiously.

"My name is Harry Potter, it seems. But, for you, I am _always_ Aleksandar."

* * *

><p>"H-how do you k-know each other?" Neville stammered after they had retrieved their luggage from the other compartment.<p>

The redheaded boy who had quickly become known as Ron Weasley seemed disgruntled at the fact that he now had to share Harry Potter. Hermione felt the same. She didn't want to share her big brother at the moment.

"Er…I don't know. Dreams?" Alek…no, Harry said.

Neville and Ron frowned before scratching the sides of their heads. Hermione looked at them, curiosity on their faces.

"Dreams? Are you Seers?" Ron asked.

Hermione got the impression that if they were Seers, Ron would start squealing. It would've been a major possibility if Hermione hadn't read about Seers and they didn't see the past. They saw the future.

Not the past.

"No. I don't think so," Harry said.

Hermione frowned. Harry's accent was much more pronounced than hers. But, that might be because Hermione had Muggle parents. They had believed something to be wrong from the moment she could talk, mostly due to the fact that her first word wasn't _English_.

So, they had taken her to a speech therapist and she had been speaking with a perfect London accent, unless she got excited.

"I suppose we could find out when we get to the school, right, Alek?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded in complete understanding. He opened his mouth to say something when the compartment door slid open once more. Hermione watched as a boy with slicked back blond hair and flashing eyes walked in as if he owned the place. Hermione instantly held dislike for him. She looked at him through judging eyes.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Harry said.

He looked the boy up and down before giving him a dismissing look. The blond boy took immediate offense and scowled. He elbowed the two goons that seemed to double as bodyguards.

"This is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Bond…" Hermione said, smirking to herself.

Harry snickered. Ron was hiding a snigger for a complete different reason. Draco decided to turn on him instead of Harry.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford," Malfoy said, sneering.

Hermione bristled at the jibe. There was nothing wrong with being poor, though Hermione had never been so. Harry seemed to take equal offence. Ron was flushing, fiercely. Before Harry could say anything against him, Malfoy stuck out his hand.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there," Malfoy said, arrogantly.

Harry raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat. He crossed his arms and brushed a lock of wavy hair behind his ear.

"I think I can tell who is the wrong sort and who isn't. I'd appreciate if you thought through your words before you speak to me again. I don't like being spoken down to. Those who _do_ speak down to me only set themselves up for embarrassment. If that will be all, please leave," Harry said, coolly.

Malfoy went red and he looked absolutely furious.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he spat. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and Hagrid and it'll rub off on you."

Hermione was surprised that her brother hadn't lost his temper by now. It was incredibly volatile and typically she wouldn't want to take part in a verbal spar but perhaps it was time to step in…

"Excuse me, Malfoy, is that a threat?" Hermione asked, sharply.

Malfoy finally seemed to take notice of her and looked her up and down, sneering. Hermione fixed him with a cool stare.

"And who are you supposed to be?" he sneered.

Hermione didn't answer right away. Her hand was on Harry's shoulder. She was trying to calm him but it was obviously wasn't working. Though he wasn't screaming and shouting, he was still very angry.

"I'd watch my tone if I were you. _Sramno momče_. I'd also leave if I were you. I don't take kindly to rudeness. It only leads to trouble. And not trouble for me," Harry snarled.

Hermione watched as her brother stood taller and looked at Draco, coldly. Draco turned on his heel and stormed out, not saying goodbye. The two goons following him lumbered away as well.

Hermione wondered briefly if she had truly seen that flash of recognition in the boy's eyes as he walked away.

* * *

><p>"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"<p>

Hermione looked up in wonder at the gigantic man in front of Harry and herself. Ron was with them as well and Neville was trailing behind, searching for Trevor. Harry smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I am. Hagrid, this is Hermione. This is Ron. And this is Neville. I met them all on the train," Harry said, squeezing Hermione's hand tightly.

Hagrid's eyes twinkled when he saw Harry and Hermione holding hands.

"Aren' yeh a little young for a girlfriend?"

Harry and Hermione's faces screwed up in disgust though they didn't release each other's hands. Ron was looking around the boathouse and the boats. The other first years looked just as frightened as he did.

"She's not my girlfriend. I've known her since I was a little kid. She's like a sister to me," Harry said, grinning.

Hermione herself, wasn't too sure how long it had been since she was a little kid. On one hand, logic told her that she was about turn twelve years old. But something else told her that she was far older than that.

"C'mon follow me. Any more firs' years? No? Then no mor'n four to a boat," Hagrid called.

He directed them towards the boats and Hermione settled in one with Harry. Neville climbed in nervously. Ron took one large step and was inside the boat. He sat down next to Neville. Hagrid looked around from his boat as the first years struggled into the boats.

"Everyone in? Right then—FORWARD!" Hagrid called.

The boats moved out from the boathouse and they went around the bend. Hermione was silent as she stared at the majestic beauty in front of her. The great Hogwarts Castle was on a cliff and it was more beautiful than anything Hermione had ever seen, in her dreams or in reality.

They moved smoothly over the lake and the trip was quick.

"Heads down!" Hagrid cried out.

Hermione ducked her head down, as they approached the side of the enormous cliff. The boats carried them through a hidden passageway, past a curtain of ivy. They were carried along the dark tunnel, guided by Hagrid's lantern.

Soon enough, they reached an underground harbor of sorts. Hermione looked at her brother, as he looked around in wonder.

"This is an excellent space to plan for battle…a hidden harbor," Harry muttered under his breath.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his one track mine.

"Come on Alek," she sighed.

He looked up at her in surprise before sparing her a slight smile.

"This way," Hagrid called.

The group of first years walked up the stairs, following the lantern until they felt smooth, damp grass under their feet. Hagrid walked up to the great castle doors and raised his fist to it.

Three large 'booms' sounded as he slammed his fist onto the door.

The door swung open at once. Hermione stared up in wonder at the woman at the door. A tall black-haired with in emerald green robes was staring down at them with a stern expression.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the entire Granger house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Hermione could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts.

You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards."

Hermione was already well aware of all this and she was getting more excited by the minute. However, what was said next shocked her to a great extent.

"Furthermore, you will be Sorted into sub-houses, the First Life or the Second Life. Those who are Sorted into the Second Life will have a drastically different schedule than those in the First Life. The Seventh Year leader of your house's sub house will explain these two sub-houses."

Hermione frowned. She had never heard such a thing. She looked around and could see all the first years look just as confused. Even Draco Malfoy had no idea about this. Hermione immediately thought that it was a secret. A closely guarded secret.

While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points.

At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

She turned and left the chamber. Hermione felt a little nervous at this point.

"How exactly do they Sort us into houses and sub-houses?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged.

"Some sort of test, I think. I've never heard about the sub-houses but Fred said for the regular houses, it hurts a lot. I think he was joking," Ron said.

Harry gave a slightly amused smile at that though Hermione could see a hint of panic in his eyes. Suddenly, Harry turned and his eyes widened in shock. He didn't make a sound though. Hermione turned and looked as well.

She gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing.

What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Hermione got into line behind Harry, nervously. He reached back and gave her wrist a squeeze before they walked out towards the Great Hall.

Hermione had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place.

It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

"Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_," Hermione whispered to his brother.

He looked over his shoulder and his lips twitched into an amused smile. He was humoring her, she knew, but he always _did_ listen. At least, _he_ didn't find her annoying. She knew Ron did.

Hermione looked back at Professor McGonagall as she placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat with a wide brim.

Hermione bit her lip.

It was time.

* * *

><p>"<em>Kleo! Kleo, where are you?" called a voice.<em>

_She muffled her laughter as she hid behind her mother's bed. Her mother didn't mind if Kleo hid there, though her father had tried to discourage her from playing their little seeking game to no avail. Sometimes, her father gave in and played himself so it wasn't as if she were __**really**__ disobeying him._

"_Kleo! I know you're in here! You dropped a bangle!" laughed Aleksandar._

_She stifled her gasp and her hand fell to her wrists. She counted in her head._

_Eden._

_Dve._

_Tri._

_Četiri_

_Petka._

_Šest._

_Sedum._

_Osum._

_Devet._

_Deset._

_She cursed herself. One bangle was missing. Every year her father sent three of his men to a country to fetch her a golden bangle. The newest one had come from Egypt. It had been hard to cross the deserts and so she cherished this one bangle above all others._

"_Come out, come, wherever you are, Kleo," Aleksandar called._

_She pushed herself into the side of the bed more as she heard Aleksandar come closer. His soft laughter grew louder until his face was only an inch from hers. She turned slowly and gave a shriek of laughter when he began to tickle. She fell back, laughing._

"_Find you."_


	4. Chapter 3

**Title: **Samsara

**Pairing: **HP/LV(TMR), HGRW, NLLL, one-sided GWHP

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or anything like that. I own nothing. Except for the plot.

**Note: **And please, make sure you know that Cleopatra of Macedon should not be confused with the Pharaoh Cleopatra. I've taken great liberty with marriages from the past and such so bare with. I _should_ be working on Inside My Mind but this kept bothering me…

ALSO, ONCE MORE WITH FEELING: I'M TAKING A LOT OF LIBERTIES WITH HISTORY! So, please ignore the slight inaccuracies with marriages and appearances. Things get _very_ different towards the end of the chapter.

Samsara

By: Sistersgrimmlover

**Chapter 3**

"_Aristotle! Again, please? Could I?"_

"_It is 'may I', Aleksandar," the older man said._

_The young man groaned and pulled on his dark curly hair. He looked at the papyrus scroll once more and he stroked the annotated copy of the Iliad, reverently. He missed the amused look that crossed Aristotle's face._

"_May I, then?" begged Aleksandar._

_Aristotle sighed and he shook his head. He couldn't quite believe that he was giving in to the young man once more. Aleksandar looked up with a hopeful expression and his lips broke into a grin before Aristotle could even say anything. He jumped up, taking the papyrus scroll with him._

"_Thank you, Aristotle!"_

"_I haven't even said anything as of yet. My dear boy, do sit down before you go running off to only the gods know where," Aristotle said with a little chuckle._

_Aleksandar sat down and he bounce in his seat with his papyrus scroll. Aristotle shook his head and he gave Aleksandar a serious look. Aleksandar looked surprised for a moment before he relaxed and gave Aristotle a smaller smile. He seemed to understand that they were to now have a rare moment of seriousness._

"_You've begun to neglect your studies in favor of this manuscript. I fear that your father will not be pleased when he visits," Aristotle warned Aleksandar._

_Aleksandar didn't look the least worried and he only shrugged and waved his hand, dismissively._

"_Father must learn to relax with me. He always expects and does not give. It is…annoying," Aleksandar said and his eyes flashed in annoyance._

_Aristotle sighed and he shook his head._

"_Aleksandar, you are getting to the age where you must begin to take some responsibilities. You will be basileus one day and that requires a lot of responsibility. At this point, I don't believe you'll be ready yet…" Aristotle started and he trailed off when he saw Aleksandar's vibrant green eyes flash in anger._

"_I __**will**__! I will be ready! I'll be a better king than my father. I'll be better at everything. I'll be smarter than him. Stronger than him. Faster than him. Grander than him! Greater than him!"_

_Aristotle watched in shock as the young thirteen-year-old man took off away from him and exited the room promptly. Aristotle only stared after him with a deep frown adorning his face._

_He didn't even blink until he heard the tell tale sound of Buchephalus' hooves slamming onto the ground._

* * *

><p>The singing hat proved to be amusing for Harry but now that that was over, he couldn't help but feel a sharp stab of nervousness. He was surprised at the feeling, as he hadn't felt such intense nervousness in a long time. He felt a hand squeeze over his own and he glanced at Hermione. She gave him her own nervous smile but it made him feel reassured.<p>

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall said.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

The pink-faced pigtailed girl stumbled out of line and rushed towards the seat. She slammed the hat down on her head but Harry could see that she didn't do this out of eagerness. She was frightened. The brim of the hat came down over her eyes so that she could see nothing but darkness, he was sure.

"HUFFLEPUFF! FIRST LIFE!"

The table on the right cheered, happily. Harry looked at the black and yellow donned table and he could see a small group of students sitting a little off with brooding expressions. They looked drawn and almost sad but they managed tired smiles. Harry looked around and could see that each table had a small group of students like that.

"Bones, Susan."

"HUFFLEPUFF! FIRST LIFE!"

It went on like this for a time. A House and then a sub-house. Even the first Gryffindor, Lavender Brown, had not been assigned to the second life sub-house. Harry wondered briefly if anyone ever would when a "Granger, Hermione" was called up.

The hat sat upon her head from a moment and her lips were twitching and twisting into a scowl. Harry couldn't see her eyes but he knew she was becoming upset about something.

Finally…finally…  
>"GRYFFINDOR! SECOND LIFE!"<p>

Instead of the cheers that Harry had quickly become accustom to, there was only silence. The close knit, tired looking group at the very end of the Gryffindor table, closest to the door only watched Hermione as she walked towards them. She sat next to the oldest who only looked fifteen.

Harry gave her a reassuring smile as she glanced back and she gave him a nervous one in return. Students to go on and when "Longbottom, Neville" was called up, Harry was not surprised to hear, "GRYFFINDOR! FIRST LIFE!"

Harry frowned when he saw that Malfoy kid swagger up to the chair when his name was called and he sat down. It barely rested on his head for a second before the hat announced his house.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry frowned and waited for the next announcement. Malfoy looked surprised as well and the hat was silent for a moment.

"SECOND LIFE…"

Malfoy frowned in confusion as he walked back to the politely applauding and tired looking bunch at the end of the Slytherin table. He sat next to another tired boy who had acne covering his face.

Harry wondered what this 'Second Life' was. He was quite confused about it, in fact and his absolute confusion bothered him a great deal.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry blinked when he heard his name and the subsequent whispers.

"_Potter_, did she say?"

"_The _Harry Potter?"

Harry walked with his head held high and he knew he was getting curious glances. His skin was different from the pale skin around him. He was almost a golden color. He sat down on the stool and that hat was placed onto his head.

He was plunged into darkness.

"_Difficult. Very difficult._"

Harry almost gasped when he heard a small voice in his ear and he frowned.

"What's difficult?"

"_Courage…great courage. Not a bad mind either. Quite the contrary. Buried beneath is a strategist…a great strategist. There's talent. Talent, definitely. And a thirst to prove yourself…that's true. You wish to be…great,_" the small voice said and it sounded almost surprised by the last part.

"_However, where shall I put you?_"

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin," Harry whispered, quite softly.

"_Not Slytherin, eh? __**He **__was in Slytherin. Of course, he wanted the same. He wanted greatness as well. He wanted __**you**__. He did not know it yet but he wanted you. Slytherin…you could be great, you know,_" the Sorting Hat tempted him.

"I could be great anywhere."

The Sorting Hat didn't say anything and Harry got the impression that it was quite surprised. It was extremely surprised and Harry couldn't help the slight smirk that twisted onto his face. It was sardonic and wicked.

"_I see…well, if you're sure…better be GRYFFINDOR!_" the Sorting Hat finally said.

Harry didn't lift the Hat as he knew the Hat wasn't yet finished.

"And my sub-house?" asked Harry.

"_Greatness…you achieved that once. I wish you it once more. SECOND LIFE!_"

Harry lifted the Hat and walked, slowly towards the tired looking group. Once more, everyone was silent and as he passed by the other Gryffindors. They all looked at him with a pitying expression and he stopped by Hermione and the other girl. The other girl looked surprised.

"_Aleksandar_?" she mouthed.

Harry frowned before tilting his head and looking back to the Sorting. He could see the High Table now. At the end, nearest to him, Hagrid gave him a thumbs up. Harry gave a smile. In the center, sat Albus Dumbledore. He looked vaguely happy to see him. It was strange because Harry got the feeling that Dumbledore was smiling, specifically, at him.

There weren't many more to Sort. Dean Thomas went to Gryffindor, First Life. Turpin, Lisa was a Ravenclaw, Second Life.

"Weasley, Ron."

Ron went up and Harry saw that he was a pale green. It was only a minute before the Hat announced where he was going to.

"GRYFFINDOR, SECOND LIFE!"

Harry smiled and he gave a polite and quiet clap. His clap encouraged the other Gryffindor, Second Lives to clap as well. Ron stumbled towards him and he gave two redheaded twins a smile. They returned it with matching grins.

Zabini, Blaise went to Slytherin, First Life.

Albus Dumbledore stood to his feet. He beamed at all the students, his hands held wide and his arms away from his body.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Harry couldn't help but crack a smile. He looked to the other Second Life students. There weren't many of them. There was the oldest looking girl, a fifteen year old. She was the one that had called him 'Aleksandar'. Then, there were two other girls that looked thirteen. Finally, there was a twelve-year-old boy.

"Is he mad?" Harry murmured to the girl.

"I suppose you could say that. He's a genius, however. Eat quickly, Aleksandar. We have much to discuss and we leave before the others," she said, softly.

Harry nodded and looked at the table in front of him. The dishes were overflowing with food. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops. Then, there were…older things.

The two thirteen-year-old girls reached forward for a large bottle of what looked like alcohol of some sort. The first poured it out and Harry was surprised to see that it was _ale_. His uncle had come home going on and on about it before. The girl gave a tired smile and tilted her head.

"Aleksandar, would you like something to eat?" the girl asked.

Harry nodded and frowned at her.

"How do you know me?"

"In time, my Lord."

Harry stared at her in astonishment. He had never heard anyone refer to him with such deference. The young woman seemed to realize her mistake and her expression became stony. Ron looked rather confused.

"Why would you call him 'my Lord'? Sure, he's famous but…" Ron trailed off when the young woman turned her stony expression onto Ron.

"First rule of being part of our little rag-tag team. We don't speak of what should stay behind closed doors. The First Lives are…curious," the young woman said and she sent the other Gryffindors a suspicious look.

Harry was shocked that the other Gryffindors were looking at his new found sub-house with a lot of interest. Actually, they were looking more at him in curiosity than anything. Harry found it slightly unnerving. He turned away from them.

"Aleksandar, I've made your plate for you. Your favorite," Hermione said and she pushed a large plate of food towards him and exchanged it with the empty plate in front of him.

A barley mash was pushed to the side of his plate with a slab of fish. She placed a glass of wine in front of him. Harry was surprised to feel his stomach growl at the meal. Usually, he wouldn't find it so very appetizing. Or maybe…he had never seen this type of food before.

Harry ate, quickly and at the same pace as everyone else. Ron had eaten three servings by the time Harry had finished his one. Harry was uncomfortably full by the time he was finished. The girl stood immediately and the three other students stood with her. Hermione and Harry jumped up, linking hands. Ron looked around as he was about to help himself to _more _food when he stood up, sheepishly.

"This way. We can't be followed," the girl muttered.

They walked quickly from the Great Hall and the other Gryffindors disappeared from sight. Harry watched as the girl led them up through moving staircases and twisting passageways. The portraits moved and watched as they passed, whispering to each other. It was clear that they knew who they were.

They finally came to a large floor length portrait of a mirror. It was strange. There was nothing reflected back at them and it was the only portrait for a long while. The girl leaned forward.

"_Samsara_."

The portrait rippled and the mirror in the portrait suddenly held an image. It was a medium-sized and comfortable looking sitting room. The girl stepped through and she threw herself onto the long golden couch. The boy grabbed a throw pillow and settled next to the roaring fire, his legs crossed. The two girls sat down together in an armchair. They were both thin enough to fit.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron shuffled in, uneasily and they stared, confused as the girl turned to them.

"My name is…Sarah, now."

Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Now? Hasn't your name always been Sarah?" Harry asked, curiously.

Sarah snorted and she crossed her arms.

"Have you always been Harry Potter?"

Harry frowned, suddenly. He considered the question for a moment.

"I'm…not sure."

"I have an answer to your question. No. The explanation: Samsara," Sarah summed up, easily.

"What's samsara?" asked Ron in curiosity.

Hermione snorted and she crossed her arms. Everyone looked up at her with varying expressions.

"It's reincarnation. She's saying we're reincarnated. It's just silly superstitions," Hermione explained.

"Don not jest about something such as that. Thou are conscious of what Muggles think of the even samsara," one of the thirteen-year-old girls said, her English accent thicker and…older.

Harry didn't think anyone had used the word 'thou' since the 1600s.

"Samsara is not a joke. Samsara. It's a noun…the definition…the cycle of death and rebirth to which life in the material world is bound. Listen good and listen well, little Miss Know-It-All. Everyone is born twice. Not once. Not three times. But twice," Sarah said, sharply.

The boy sitting cross-legged on the floor nodded and he looked up at her. Hermione looked over at him, shocked.

"There are those who will live blissfully unaware for the rest of their life. And then there are those like us…who will forever dream about places we've never seen. Things we've never done. People we've never met. It will haunt us. Tempt us. Show us things that don't exist anymore," the boy said, wisely and he looked away from them.

"Why are we separated into those mini-houses, then?" Ron asked, curiously.

One of the thirteen-year-old girls glared at him.

"Have you not been listening to her words?"

"I have! I just don't understand!" Ron said, defending himself.

"Lower your voice. There's an old tale about _before _the sub-houses. There was a man…he was a boy at the time. He was Sorted into Slytherin. And he was driven insane apparently because there was something…some_one_ that he wanted. He wanted so bad and that person was _gone_. He caused terror…looking for that one person. After that, they started the sub-houses. But…it's no walk in the park," Sarah said, softly.

Harry frowned at this and he wondered why this changed everything.

"That still doesn't explain why there are sub-houses," he reminded her.

Sarah looked over at him and she gave him a look of deference that he didn't quite understand. Harry tilted his head as he observed her and he crossed his arms.

"Last time I saw you…I died. I was…in my forties. You were in your twenties. It was a normal time to die. However, your mentor lived for a longer period of time. We stay separate and isolated for a reason. It's…easier. To deal with the pain and to keep focus. We're different. In addition to normal classes, which we have with the others…we have time with Professor Dumbledore. He will help you. He will help you understand," Sarah explained, quietly and she looked at the fire, deep in thought.

Harry was a little disturbed by her earlier statement though he finally understood how she had known him.

"So, you know who I was?"

"I did. I knew who you all were," Sarah whispered.

"I'm not saying that I believe in all of this but can you tell us?" asked Hermione, her curiosity sneaking away from her firm and cold logical mind.

"Not yet, _Kleo_. Off to bed. Girls to the right. Boys to the left. I'll have your schedules in the morning. _MaJ son ve potsetam na ona što mora da se pomiri so,_" Sarah murmured to them in that strange language that Harry understood so well.

He looked over at Ron and Hermione. Hermione blinked and then frowned in deep thought. Ron looked genuinely surprised and Harry wondered what he was surprised about.

"_Dobra nok_," Harry whispered and he walked up the staircase Sarah had indicated with Ron scurrying after him.

When they emerged into a grand room with three canopy beds with black sheets on each of them, Ron jumped into the one on the left. Harry ran his hand over the middle bed, near his trunk and he relished in the feel of the silk. It felt better than anything he had felt in his life.

Well, this life, he amended.

For some, inexplicable reason, he trusted that girl, Sarah.

"Do you believe in all that dung, she's telling us, Harry?" Ron asked, as they began to dress for bed.

Harry looked over at his new friend and he gave a curious smile.

"I…I think so."

* * *

><p>"<em>And then he had the daring nerve to tell me that I need to take on more responsibilities! That wretched old man! How dare he?" Aleksandar raged to the older woman sitting on the greenery beside him.<em>

"_Aleksandar…"_

"_I only wished to read. He's always encouraging me. Or rather, badgering me about it. He constantly tells me to spend less time with my friends and more with my studies. I like my friends more," Aleksandar growled in anger and he ripped up patches of grass as he spoke._

"_Aleksandar…"_

_Aleksandar continued as if he hadn't ever heard the woman and he looked over down the hill at his grand horse. Buchephalus. At least he could depend on him._

"_I shall be greater than father ever was. That bastard doesn't even acknowledge me as fully Macedonian at times. He knows I'm only half. I do think he hopes that I will produce a full Macedonian heir before I may assume the throne. I only hope that he falls on his sword before that," Aleksandar snarled._

"_Aleksandar!"_

_Aleksandar jumped and turned to look at the angry woman. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulder, which was not an unusual style. Her dark blue himation contrasted nicely with her golden toned skin._

"_What?" Aleksandar asked, in a quiet voice._

"_You shall stop your talk of your father this instance, malo dete," she snapped._

"_Lanike! I'm no malo dete. Little boy? I am thirteen years of age. I will soon be of age to marry and to assume the throne," Aleksandar said, almost whiny._

"_You still act very much like a little boy and I shall address you as such until you grow up. I love you, Aleksandar but to talk of our basileus like that is treason. Even disregarding the fact that he is your father. Now come. Walk with me. There are philos about the grounds and I fear that some are old and lecherous," Lanike said, primly._

_Aleksandar laughed and he stood with her, shaking the stray blades of grass off of his clothing. They walked side by side, the grass crunching underneath his bare feet. He had left his sandals by Buchephalus' side and he had no patience to go back to get them._

"_Why are there philos here? Has Father called an assembly? Why was I not invited?" Aleksandar asked, indignant._

_Lanike offered a dry smile and she chuckled, softly._

"_Maybe that is because you are not yet king. He does not need your approval. He is king. He does what he pleases. Let us not talk about your father. Why have you not inquired about your sister yet?" Lanike asked, curiously and Aleksandar blinked in absolute surprise._

"_Have I not asked about her?"_

"_I would not have said anything if you had."_

"_That is true. How is Kleo?"_

"_Well. Very well. She misses you greatly, the young princess. Do visit her before you go back to Mieza," Lanike said, softly._

"_I cannot promise this. Aristotle will be searching for me, I am sure. I do not want him to send others after me," Aleksandar said as an explanation and Lanike nodded, taking it at face value._

_Aleksandar rarely lied._

_The two walked into a comfortable silence until they walked around the grounds once and back towards Buchephalus. Aleksandar's eyes widened as he saw the back of a man, patting Buchephalus, softly. And his horse was __**allowing **__it._

"_Excuse me! He belongs to me!" Aleksandar called as he rushed towards his beloved horse._

_The man turned around, slowly and Aleksandar stopped, suddenly. He stared with wide green eyes up at the man standing in front of him and he swallowed hard against the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat._

"_I do apologize. I did not realize that he belonged to you. You are Prince Aleksandar, I assume," the man said in a velvet voice and Aleksandar practically melted on the spot as he stared up with struck green eyes._

"_I-I…yes, that would be myself. I am Prince Aleksandar," Aleksandar said, quietly._

"_Yes. I am Adonis Karatasos," the man said, giving a little bow._

_He wore a black chiton that fell to his knees and revealed sculpted and pale legs. Aleksandar swallowed hard as he looked at the man's shoulder length silk black hair and his unusual and decidedly, strange, red eyes._

"_It is a great pleasure to meet you, Lord Karatasos," Aleksandar whispered._

_Lord Karatasos, daringly, brushed a curl of Aleksandar's hair from his face with a long, elegant pale finger and he gave a slight smirk._

"_It is a pleasure to meet __**you**__, malku basileus."_

:::

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long. I lost inspiration. I apologize.


	5. Chapter 4

**Title: **Samsara

**Pairing: **HP/LV(TMR), HGRW, NLLL, one-sided GWHP

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or anything like that. I own nothing. Except for the plot.

**Note: **And please, make sure you know that Cleopatra of Macedon should not be confused with the Pharaoh Cleopatra. I've taken great liberty with marriages from the past and such so bare with. I _should_ be working on Inside My Mind but this kept bothering me…

ALSO, ONCE MORE WITH FEELING: I'M TAKING A LOT OF LIBERTIES WITH HISTORY! So, please ignore the slight inaccuracies with marriages and appearances. Things get _very_ different towards the end of the chapter.

Samsara

By: Sistersgrimmlover

**Chapter 4**

_The dark haired woman watched with the redheaded queen in the balcony that overlooked the garden. Lanike observed as Aleksandar threw back his head and let out that bell-sounding laugh that could transform into a cold heckle in seconds. Queen Olympias had a frown on herself._

"_I do not like this," Olympias murmured as she looked at her fourteen-year-old son and the lord that was accompanying him through the elaborate gardens of one of their many homes._

"_I do not like this either, my Queen," Lanike said, just as softly and Olympias looked over at her with surprise in her green depths._

"_You see it as well. My husband believes it to be innocent. I think not. He wishes to take Aleksandar as his lover. He wishes to bed the future basileus of Macedonia. And I will not allow it," Olympias said, firmly and Lanike nodded in approval before she faltered as she saw the bright smile that Aleksandar had flashed Adonis._

"_My Queen…he seems…happy. He has feelings for this man. I am not yet sure if he has extended anything beyond friendship but he cares a great deal for him. He visits from Mieza more often because of this man," Lanike remarked, calmly and Olympias' nostrils flared as she brushed back her dark red hair from her face._

"_I rather him be unhappy than his heart broken. That man…there is something in his eyes…something that I do not like. Lanike, you will observe him for me. Kleopatra knows what she must do. I have told her what she must do to ensure that her brother becomes the basileus of Macedonia, despite what my husband wishes" Olympias said, quite firmly and her eyes were hard as she watched the two._

_The woman spun around and her golden robes spun with her and she walked back into her rooms and Lanike stayed on the balcony for just a minute longer. Aleksandar laughed again and he jumped up, catching a branch of a tree. He swung for a moment before jumping back next to Adonis._

_Adonis gave him a smile and then looked over his shoulder and straight at Lanike. Lanike took a step backward, her eyes wide in shock as his soft and patient smile transformed into something entirely different. A wicked smirk took its place and he winked at Lanike._

_The wink was not flirtatious in nature. His eyes held a sort of warning in them and Lanike turned on her heel and disappeared back into her Queen's quarters. Lanike couldn't believe what she had just seen. He was a good actor, that was certain._

_She had many things to think over now._

* * *

><p>Harry was dressed and downstairs by seven-thirty and the boy, whom he had learned was named, Emmett was ready around the same time. Emmett was sitting by the fire, in the same position that he had been sitting in before. When Harry had made his way downstairs, Ron had just begun to get dressed.<p>

"Good morning, my Lord…Harry," Sarah said, correcting herself as she stood in the stairway that led into their small common room.

She led Hermione and the two girls down. Harry was surprised to see Hermione's bushy hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was scowling at the two girls but they were giggling as they pushed her forward. Harry sent the scowling girl a quizzical look.

"Lynette and Hazel thought that they should do my hair. They quickly found that it could be not tamed and opted to place it in a ponytail," Hermione explained and Harry nodded in understanding.

Sarah crossed her arms and looked to the coffee table sitting in the middle of the room. As if by magic (Harry reminded himself that it probably _was _magic), a stack of parchment appeared and Sarah reached forward for it eagerly. She turned to Lynette and Hazel.

"You two will have your Samsara class with Professor Flitwick this year," Sarah as she flipped through them and the two girls looked shocked and slightly saddened by this.

"Wherefore?" Hazel complained.

Sarah gave a slight smile.

"Seeing as he was in the same time period, you will learn from him. He will help you most. Don't ask questions. Questions lead to answers you don't quite need or want to know," Sarah said, softly and Lynette and Hazel nodded in resignation and understanding.

They both sighed before exchanging glances and crossing their arms, pouting. They looked thoroughly annoyed by this but they sighed again and relented anyway. Harry found the exchange vaguely amusing.

"Very well. Pray pardon, but I am off to the privy," Hazel said with a smile and she skipped back up the stairs.

"What era are _they _from?" Ron snorted.

"We're from the Elizabethan Era, thank you very much. Those who tend to remember, as we do, were important in history. We are quite able to switch back and forth between dialects, thank you. I believe I shall go help Hazel do her makeup. We'll be down in a few minutes time," Lynette said and she turned to rush up the stairs when she suddenly stopped and looked back at Harry.

She dropped into a curtsey and muttered, "Your Grace," before walked up the stairs.

"'Your Grace'? What are they calling you that for?" Ron asked, confused and Hermione looked over at him with a roll of the eyes.

"They're apparently from the Elizabethan Era. That's how they referred to royalty. Sarah calls him 'my Lord'. I'm sure they just translated it into their own dialect of English," Hermione explained, primly.

Ron glared at her and his ears turned red in embarrassment. Harry could see that Hermione's prim way of explanation had made Ron feel stupid.

"Well, I wasn't asking _you!_ I was asking Harry. You know, _my _friend," Ron said, annoyed and angrily.

Harry's eyes widened when he saw Hermione's eyes flash and she spun to glare at him, her hands on her hips. Ron took a step back at the angry look on her face. There was a glint of possession in her eyes. She almost seemed to tower over him despite the fact that he was much taller than her.

"_Jas nema da dozvolime nekoJ da go zeme od mene povtorno_," Hermione snarled, angrily and her English accent disappeared completely as she hissed out the foreign language.

Her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth and she flushed. Ron stared at her, his eyes wide and confused. Hermione shook her head and looked towards Sarah. Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"You do not have a British accent. You cannot fake an accent like that," Sarah murmured, softly.

Hermione flushed and she opened her mouth to explain. Hermione stopped and she crossed her arms and looked at her with a severe expression. Sarah looked surprised for a minute.

"I don't see how it's any of your business. Why are you prying? We're new students here and, and we're away from home. You aren't making it easier with your stupid reincarnation stuff. Why don't you just leave me alone?" Hermione snapped and Sarah held up her hands to show that she was giving up this particular battle.

Hermione turned away and glared down.

"I admit that I overstepped my boundaries. I apologize," Sarah said, softly and Hermione gave her a look before nodding in understanding.

Sarah sighed and she ran a hand through her hair.

"It's all right," Hermione said and her voice slipped back into the pseudo-British accent that she had learned from speech therapists instead of peers as most of her newfound friends.

"Sarah?" Harry asked, softly and gently and the two girls seemed to remember him there and Hermione flushed in embarrassment.

"My Lord…I mean, yes, Harry?" Sarah asked, stumbling over her words for just a moment and Harry frowned at her before sighing.

"Are we going downstairs now?"

"Not yet. You three, the firsties, will be having Samsara classes with Professor Dumbledore," Sarah said, quietly as she looked over their schedules and she sounded almost surprised.

Hermione's eyes brightened.

"The Headmaster will be teaching us? That is amazing! He's the most powerful wizard in the world," Hermione said and in her excitement, she seemed to have forgotten her skepticism of the entire idea of 'Samsara' and what not.

"Yes, it is a great honor. You are fortunate. I have Professor Snape as a teacher," Sarah said and Hermione shot her a mistrusting look.

"What exactly will be learning in the class?" Hermione asked, sharply and Sarah tilted her head as she observed the younger girl.

"Various things. History. How to separate your memories of the past and the present. How to separate your current personality and your old one. It's all to protect yourself and others from the past," Sarah said, mysteriously and she crossed her arms before giving a loud sigh and handing them their schedules.

Hermione read hers over quickly and Harry looked over his own. He frowned at his schedule and saw that he met with the other first year second life students for most of his other classes. That meant, he'd have to deal with that Malfoy snob, which he was clearly not looking forward too.

"Why are we separated from the other Gryffindors?" Ron asked in confusion and Sarah sighed, shaking her head.

"I explained this last night. We cannot afford any distractions from any other students. They are…not equal to us. They are simply children. We are all someone great. The sub-houses aren't only divided because of someone being in their first life or second life. It's a possibility that they _are _in their second life. However, you are Sorted into Second Life, if you were _great_," Sarah explained and here she gave a look of immense intensity at Harry.

He squirmed, slightly and looked away from her expecting gaze.

There was that word again.

Great.

What was it about that word that drew such emotion and determination from him?

"So, we're all important figures in history?" Hermione deadpanned and Sarah smiled and nodded.

"Yes. I'm one of the leaders of the Second Life division. There is one for each house. For Ravenclaw, there's Penelope Clearwater. She's a fourth year. For Hufflepuff, Cedric Diggory. He's a third year. The poor kid had to take responsibility because there isn't anyone else older than him. Luckily, he didn't get any students this year. Last year, he received at least three. And finally, for _Slytherin_, Marcus Flint," Sarah said and her voice dropped into a tone of dislike when she mentioned Flint.

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Who are you, then?"

"I can't tell you that. I am not stupid, _Kleo_ though I'm not as smart as you. I knew who you were, thus we were in the same time era and perhaps close. If I told you, it'd be easier for you find out and if there's one rule for us it's…do _not _try to find out who you were prematurely," Sarah said, severely and Hermione looked properly abashed by her attempts to outsmart Sarah.

Sarah's stern expression softened and she brushed a curly lock from Hermione's forehead.

"But…you and Harry and Ron are BCE. Before Common Era," Sarah said, softly and she turned around and walked towards Emmett, intent on explaining a few things to him.

Hermione looked struck by the idea and Ron frowned in confusion. Harry contemplated what Sarah had just said.

"What does she mean by 'Before Common Era'?" Ron asked and Hermione opened her mouth to go into a long lecture about BCE, CE, and _Anno Domini_.

Harry held up his hand and she fell silent.

"I expect Dumbledore—"

"_Professor _Dumbledore," Hermione corrected, gently and Harry gave a great sigh.

"I expect _Professor _Dumbledore will explain things to us better than Sarah is. She's _trying _to hide information from us. It's supposed to be a challenge of sorts, I think. But, we're not to treat it like a game," Harry warned and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I don't understand why we're going through all this," Ron groaned, frustrated with Sarah and the confusion she was causing in them and Hermione gave a loud sigh of annoyance.

"Are you being _deliberately _obtuse?" she snapped and Ron flushed, angrily.

"Are you being _deliberately _annoying?"

"Would you stop bickering?" Harry snarled and the two fell silent once more before looking away from each other and Harry sighed.

"Sarah, can we down to breakfast?" Harry questioned and Sarah looked up from her seat next to a meditating Emmett before holding up one finger.

"One minute, _malo dete_."

Harry's eyes flashed.

"Sarah! I'm not a _malo dete_! Little boy? I'm eleven years old!" Harry said, deadly close to whinging and Sarah's lips curled into a wide smile, as if she had remembered something pleasant.

"No. You are not, I suppose. Emmett…do we need to go over anything more?" Sarah asked and the boy shook his head.

"I am meeting with Professor Sinistra after _tējī sē __ṭ__ū__ṭ__a_?" Emmett asked in a soft Indian accent despite his English-born looks and Sarah gave her charge an apologetic look.

"Emmett…you know I can't speak Hindi very well, yet. English, please," Sarah said, gently and Emmett almost flushed in embarrassment.

"I am sorry. After breaking the fast," Emmett corrected himself.

"Yes, that's right. Are we all ready? Lynette! Hazel!" Sarah said, shouting up the stairs and the two girls came bouncing down the stairs with bright smiles.

As they realized that they were about to leave, they instantly became more subdued and demure. Hazel frowned at the ground before taking a deep sigh and lifting her head to look Sarah in the eye. Sarah nodded and she tilted her head.

"Descending order of years. Me, then Hazel and Lynette, then Emmett, and then you three," Sarah said, inclining her head to the first years and Harry nodded in understanding though he didn't quite agree.

They gathered and Sarah pushed open the doorway to their common room and they followed her into the dimly lit corridor. As the doorway closed, there was a heavy clanking sound as if something was locking and the portrait seemed to melt into the blank brick wall. Sarah nodded and she turned before she began to march. Harry noticed that the route that they took towards the Great Hall was different from the one they had taken the night before. It was just as confusing and time consuming with its twists and turns but he assumed that it was precaution. But Harry appreciated someone who was cautious even if they bordered on severe paranoia.

When they finally reached the Great Hall they were met by a small group of Hufflepuffs. One was a handsome boy with dark hair and bright grey eyes, a strange combination. Three second years were crowded behind him and they looked vaguely nervous.

"Good morning, Cedric," Sarah greeted and Harry wasn't surprised by her friendliness.

He was one of them.

"Good morning, Sarah."

"Good morning, your Majesty," Hazel murmured and she fell into a low curtsey with Lynette and Cedric gave a confused smile.

"Good morning, Hazel, Lynette. If you'll excuse us," Cedric said before he ushered the second years behind him into the Great Hall.

Hazel and Lynette sent each other glares before they walked into the Great Hall with Emmett following them. Sarah stared after them with an amused look on her face before she turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Ready for what exactly? It's just breakfast," Hermione said, snootily and Sarah smiled.

"It's never just breakfast with us."

Sarah walked in with Harry by her side and he almost cringed into her side. Harry despised being stared at and it bothered him more than anything. He felt a hand grab his own and he looked over at his sister with a smile. She was giving him a reassuring look before she dropped his hand. It reassured a little but there was something…someone he wanted by his side.

To hide him from the stares.

"It's okay, Harry."

Harry looked up at Sarah and she was looking down at him with a frown upon her soft face. Harry nodded, slowly and he sat down at the table, not ungracefully. He looked down at the table and sighed.

"I'll give you some food," Sarah murmured and she began to prepared his plate as Hermione poured him a glass of wine and pushed it towards him.

On a plate was barley bread with a side of figs and olives.

"Thanks."

"Your welcome, _malku basileus_."

Harry stiffened and looked over at Sarah with narrowed eyes.

"Don't call me that."

Sarah reared back.

"What?"

"Don't call me that, Sarah. Just…don't."

_It is a pleasure to meet you, malku basileus_.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore was not one to be usually surprised. But, when the three first years came into his office after lunch that day, he <em>was <em>surprised by who they actually were.

The old man made eye contact with the obvious leader of their little trio and those green depths conveyed exactly whom this was. He failed to have the messy hair of James Potter or the dark curls that he had had in his past life. However, he had a perfect combination, creating loose waves that fell around his ears. His skin was golden as ever and despite the childish baby fat, he looked the same.

The girl did not have the same auburn curls but that could change with age. That seemed likely. Kleopatra had always been the intellectual type, more so than her brother and that was surely saying something as Aleksandar had always had a knack for winning battle strategies. The more one submersed him or herself in their past life, the more of their characteristics they gained. Her hazel eyes, so like Philip's were now brown but little else had changed about her.

And finally, the one boy who could have been considered a better strategist than Aleksandar. He had been appointed _strategos _of course. And then there was his never-ending loyalty to his king. After Aleksandar's unfortunate and early death, he had ruled and though he had never been as great or respected as Aleksandar, he had done quite well.

"Good afternoon," Albus greeted and the girl darted forward.

"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore. I'm Hermione Granger. I've read all about you, sir. You're a great wizard," Hermione complimented and Albus couldn't help but smile wider at the slight Macedonian accent in her voice.

"It is nice to meet you, Miss Granger. I daresay that I know you quite well though if you have changed in two thousand and some years is yet to be found out. And you two?" Albus said, turning to the boys.

The redhead flushed.

"I'm Ron Weasley. Mum and Dad said they know you," Ron muttered under his breath as he looked up at the powerful wizard, shyly.

Albus nodded. He didn't quite have an accent but the flushing was a quality that he had had in his past life. That was a start and something that he could certainly work with if he didn't reveal anymore qualities.

"I _am _acquainted with Molly and Arthur. Such nice and brave people," Albus complimented and Ron flushed with pride instead of embarrassment this time and he seemed a bit more relaxed now.

Albus turned to the last.

"I'm Harry Potter. I know you."

Albus' smile was even wider now. His Macedonian accent was the thickest of the three and he had the same bluntness and straight forwardness.

"Indeed, young Harry. Now, let us all take seats. Lemon drops?" Albus asked as he gestured to the couch he had transfigured for this particular meeting and the three shook their heads.

They sat down, however and looked up at him. Albus tilted his head and reclined in his own ornate armchair that had little Snidgets printed all over it. Hermione was staring at it strangely before she shook her head. Albus cleared his throat.

"Sarah has made me aware that one of you doubts Samsara—"

Here Hermione blushed and Albus knew that she was embarrassed that he had been notified of her disbelief.

"But, I'd like to clear away any doubts you have. I am a product of Samsara and in fact, I was the philosopher, Aristotle."

Hermione's eyes widened as did Harry's and he reared back.

"And I knew each and everyone of you though I knew Harry and Hermione more," Albus continued and Hermione's eyes sparkled.

"I knew Aristotle…" she murmured to herself before looking up at Albus.

"Who were we?" Ron asked and it seemed that that was the question that Hermione had wanted to ask as she had shot him an appreciative glance.

"That…is what you need to figure out. Now, we shall begin on narrowing down where you are in the timeline. Though I am quite aware of each and everyone of you, I believe that you must figure this out by yourself. So, I will show images from various time eras, going backwards. We shall start in the 3rd century. Yes, that's an appropriate place," Albus said and he lifted his wand and projected a grainy picture of the Baths of Caracalla and then the notes of an inventor whom had created the repeating crossbow.

There were no reactions.

"Then the 2nd century."

A picture of Zhang Heng was the first thing that came up to represent the period of 101 to 200. Then, a shot of the remains of Hadrian's Wall. After that, there was a shot of the Five Good Emperors: Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, and Marcus Aurelius.

"Then the 1st century it is. I do think we're getting closer," Albus said with a smile and Harry cracked a smile though he frowned once more, leaning forward, squinting through round glasses.

A depiction of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Then, he showed the bronze statue of Augustus.

"Ooh…Augustus. I researched him for a report," Hermione whispered and Harry gave his sister a smile as Ron grimaced at her excitement.

However, despite her seeming excitement, it was clear that the three were getting impatient and Albus decided to skip to the 3rd century BC.

"We'll go to the 3rd century BCE. It's personally, one of my favorites," Albus said and Ron blanched.

"We're that old?"

"Increasingly," Albus said with a twinkle in his eyes before he showed pictures of the Chinese Terracotta Army.

He then showed a picture of the Pyramid of the Moon. It shifted, quickly depicting similar pictures of human-made architecture that was quite advanced for that time. It was a wonder to behold even if he was so far into the future. Though magic made things much easier this time around, he still couldn't help but feel that the architecture made by hand held a more personal touch and beauty.

"That's not it…" Harry muttered to himself and Albus nodded.

"Quite right. Let us try the…4th century."

The reaction was instantaneous and all three Gryffindors stiffened before leaning forward in anticipation. They all looked much more alert and Albus hid his smile, expertly. He decided to start with the death of Socrates in 399 BCE. Albus felt a faint pang for his teacher whom had been reincarnated into his ill-fated lover, Gellert Grindelwald. It seemed that he would never have a happy ending…

Albus shook it off and changed the image to what appeared to be the Battle of the Allia in 387 BCE. The images flashed until Macedonian things began to pass fleetingly and then suddenly Hermione let out a harsh shout and pointed as Harry paled. Ron was biting his tongue bloody. Hermione was shaking as she crossed her arms, her fingernails creating crescent shaped wounds and drawing blood. Harry was frozen.

The image was of course not quite perfect but Severus had painted it to his remembrance and it was ideally what they had looked like in their time. The woman was sitting, long dark, fiery red hair spilling over her shoulders and a smile upon her face. She was dressed in fine green robes and donned many golden bangles. Her face was unpainted by cosmetics. The man stood, proudly, with messy black hair and hazel eyes. He donned armor and he looked like the king he was.

"That's my father. The father in my dreams…" Harry murmured, pointing to the man and Hermione blinked.

"That's my mother. 'Be prepared', she tells me. That's why I'm always prepared for anything and everything," Hermione whispered, quietly and Ron frowned in confusion.

"I…there's something about them."

"Dreams, you say? Tell me about your dreams," Albus dictated and he ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach as once more, a student of great power spoke of having dreams related to his past life.

But, now it was two that spoke of it.

"Well…I never quite remember in the mornings but I get the gist of my mother. She's a lovely woman. She looks just like that. She always talks to me about making sure that my brother…that my brother is safe and that I must help him in anyway he needs me to. Sometimes I see him. Most of the time. Him, being Harry," Hermione explained with slight confusion on her face and Harry cleared his throat.

"My dreams are similar but my father does not always feature in them. He was in one or two and I got a horse. His name was Buchephalus. You've been in a few them, sir. I don't really remember them very well. Hermione was in them too. But…lately…" Harry said and he frowned.

Albus' eyes widened when he felt the young boy's magic react to his growing frustration and it lashed out at Albus. Albus used his own magic to soothe the boy but it was too volatile and too young to be properly contained. The darker magic corrupted his own and the image flashed, suddenly before returning to the original image.

But, it was too late.

Harry had seen the one thing that Albus had been intent on keeping from him and he had not succeeded in his attempts.

He had seen Lord Karatasos.

* * *

><p>"<em>Kleopatra, come here."<em>

_The young woman walked towards her mother and saw that she looked almost troubled. Kleopatra hurried towards her mother faster and she sat down at her feet as she had done since she was a small child. Her mother began carding her fingers through thick auburn hair and Kleopatra had always wondered how she had done so without getting her fingers tangled._

"_Mother, is there something disturbing you?" Kleopatra asked, dutifully and her mother did not pause in her ministrations._

"_Yes…what do you know of your brother's relationship with Lord Karatasos?" the Queen asked and Kleopatra looked towards the ground with a disgruntled look upon her face._

"_He fails to spend time with myself, opting to speak with the Lord Karatasos instead. I went to speak with him and he turned me away," Kleopatra spat with envy clear in her tone of voice and she felt a sharp rap on top of her head that made the twelve-year-old look up._

_The Queen's expression was hard though Kleopatra knew that the harsh look was not directed at her._

"_Envy is not becoming especially when you are jealous of a lowly __**lord**__," she said, spitting out the word as if it were made of the deadly poison._

"_Aleksandar cares for him. He allows the Lord Karatasos to ride Buchephalus. I saw Alek kiss him upon the cheek once," Kleopatra reported, dutifully and she looked up at her mother whom had frozen at the last statement._

_Her eyes flashed and she stood and walked towards the balcony. Kleopatra knew that Lord Karatasos and her brother were the down there in the gardens and she walked behind her mother, curious as to what they were doing. The Queen's face was frozen into a mask of fury and resentment. Kleopatra's eyes widened at the scene._

_Lord Karatasos had her brother pressed against a tree and in a ravenous kiss full of passion and heat that made Kleopatra's cheeks go flush. Olympias stood, tall and willowy her face devoid of blood, making her look akin to a waxy corpse._

_Kleopatra knew that Olympias was not only angry with Lord Karatasos. She was more angry with her brother for endangering all that Olympias had worked for, for Lord Karatasos was not the only participant in the kiss. Aleksandar's hand were not afraid of exploring every, single part of Lord Karatasos' body._

"_Get your brother before I get him myself," Olympias hissed and Kleopatra nodded, dropping into a respectful curtsey for good measure._

_Kleopatra doubted from her mother's rooms and down the steps. She pushed past the servants and though she knew they were angry, they could not say anything. Despite Kleopatra's jealousy, she would not wish for Aleksandar's punishment if her mother was the one to separate what would most likely turn to be an act of coitus._

_Kleopatra burst into the gardens and she spotted where Lord Karatasos was holding her brother against a tree. The older man was now lavishing Aleksandar's neck with loving kisses and Kleopatra looked up to the balcony. Her mother was standing there, grasping the rail tightly._

"_Aleksandar!" Kleopatra barked and Aleksandar pushed the older man from him sharply before clearing his throat._

"_Kleo…"_

"_Don't. Look," Kleopatra said, pointing to the balcony and Aleksandar's golden skin turned gray, strangely enough._

"_Oh no…"_

"_She saw you. She's angry with you and demands your prescence," Kleopatra said, dutifully and Aleksandar looked forlorn and resigned._

_Though he was one to brag about the fact that he was to be basileus, even he acknowledged that he wouldn't be where he was if it weren't for his mother's cunning and bravery. She was brave enough to stand up to their father whenever he wished to take another wife and the King respected and almost feared her._

"_I'm sorry, Adonis," Aleksandar whispered before he turned and walked towards the building._

_Kleopatra turned back to look at Karatasos and saw that he was glaring up at her mother before he turned his hellfire gaze onto her. Karatasos then spoke._

"_He is mine."_

:::

**A/N: **So...here's an early Christmas gift. It's just a distraction from Inside My Mind really. If you don't mind, maybe you can check out my new HP/LM story named Haute Couture. I've always been interested in the politics of the fashion world as it's such a catty, catty world. I'm absolutely enamoured with that story.


	6. Chapter 5

**Title: **Samsara

**Pairing: **HP/LV(TMR), HGRW, NLLL, one-sided GWHP

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or anything like that. I own nothing. Except for the plot.

**Note: **And please, make sure you know that Cleopatra of Macedon should not be confused with the Pharaoh Cleopatra. I've taken great liberty with marriages from the past and such so bare with. I _should_ be working on Inside My Mind but this kept bothering me…

ALSO, ONCE MORE WITH FEELING: I'M TAKING A LOT OF LIBERTIES WITH HISTORY! So, please ignore the slight inaccuracies with marriages and appearances. Things get _very_ different towards the end of the chapter.

Samsara

By: Sistersgrimmlover

**Chapter 5**

"_You foolish boy! You are going to ruin everything! You will put an end to this…this…__**affair**__ immediately! Do you hear me, boy?" demanded the Queen and Aleksandar looked up at her with regretful and defiant eyes._

"_But, Mother! I…" he trailed off and Olympias flew forward, towering over him with eyes of blazing Greek fire._

"_What? What Aleksandar?" Olympias shouted and Aleksandar's eyes hardened and he looked up at his mother without fear and with great defiance upon his face._

"_I care for him mother. And I will keep both my kingdom and the man I care deeply for. I will not let you tell me anything else. __**I **__am to be king! Not __**you**__!" Aleksandar roared in anger and Olympias was shocked at his open disobedience and simply the fact that he was shouting at her._

_Aleksandar had never shouted at her before and it greatly bothered her. It was clear that Kleopatra was unnerved by Aleksandar's fury as well. She was staring with wide eyes, her eyes going from her mother to her brother, as if she were deciding which side to take. Olympias frowned down at her son._

_The defiance in his posture was clear from the way he stood, rigidly. He was staring her down with fiery green eyes. He was non-relenting and his jaw was hard. Golden fingers were closed into tight fists and his nails were beginning to create crescent-shaped marks on his rough, calloused palms. And then, despite his lean stature, his fierceness almost made her take a step back. If she didn't know the boy, she would almost fear him._

"_I am your mother despite the fact that you are the future basileus. You shall immediately show me respect or I shall see to it that you shall never gain the throne," Olympias threatened, unrelenting and Aleksandar took a step towards him, her eyes narrowed as he stood almost as tall as her._

"_Mother, with all due __**respect**__, I'd like to see you try. It is mine for the taken. I shall have __**all **__that I wish for. My kingdom, my wife, my heir, __**and **__my lover," Aleksandar hissed at her and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure that he was not overheard despite the fact that they stood in Olympias' private rooms._

"_You will lose it all if you want too much," Olympias warned and Aleksandar stared at his mother with a hard look in his eyes._

"_I don't care."_

"_You __**do **__care. Don't pretend you don't, Aleksandar. I know you better than you know yourself. He will claim you and twist you and __**use **__you and don't pretend otherwise. It is beneath you," Olympias said, coldly and Aleksandar stiffened, shaking in childish fury and Olympias stared at him, triumphantly._

"_I refuse to listen…"_

"_Why do you refuse, Aleksandar? Is it because you fear that I am right? Your judgment is becoming clouded and you are growing foolish. I did not rare you to become like this," Olympias said, her tone and expression condescending in all ways and Aleksandar's eyes flashed and he shook his head, resigning and Olympias looked almost triumphant._

"_I've had enough of this. Come, Kleopatra," Aleksandar murmured as he turned from his mother and walked towards the doors away from the Queen's private rooms._

_Kleopatra stared at her brother with an unfathomable look upon her eyes. She looked exceptionally calculating as she always did though there was hint of doubt. She looked at her mother but there wasn't anything but anger on her face. Thankfully, it was not directed towards her._

_And then, Kleopatra remembered the words that Olympias had always told her and she knew what she had to do. She walked towards her brother and turned to look over at her mother. Olympias stared at her, her scowl lightening ever so lightly and she gave a firm nod, confirming Kleopatra's actions to be the right thing._

_Kleopatra turned back to her brother and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. If Aleksandar reacted, Olympias could not see. The boy simply began to lead her out, his head held high in open defiance of the mother that simply wanted to secure his position as heir._

_Olympias watched with a frown as her two children turned their backs on her and walked out, leaving her alone. She watched, as Kleopatra looked back, sadness set deep in her auburn-framed face. She turned back around, looking up and awarding her brother with a smile that he barely returned. Those that stood guard at her door turned, eyes cast to the ground. They pulled the door closed, revealing the woman that had hidden behind them._

_Dark eyes stared back into green and a sad frown was set into Lanike's beautiful face and she sighed. Olympias gave a tired smile and shook her head, resigned by her son's abrupt departure._

"_Lanike…"_

"_My lady, will you really let this continue?" Lanike asked, softly and Olympias looked up at her with hooded green eyes and she shook her head._

"_What else can I do, Lanike? He is right. I can command him not to see the man but he will not necessarily follow my orders. I could have the man executed but I fear he shall never forgive me," Olympias said, regretfully and Lanike nodded in understanding._

_Lanike brushed her long thick black hair from her face and she wrung her hands together, attempting to come up with a solution for their…problem. She sighed, loudly and cleared her throat._

"_My lady, I can't…he can't…Aleksandar does not know what he's doing. He's too young…" Lanike blurted out, her lower lip quivering as she attempted to protect her charge and she blinked._

"_I know, my dear. I know."_

* * *

><p>That first day had been a turning point for Harry James Potter.<p>

He now knew that he was not simply Harry James Potter or the Boy-Who-Lived but he was something more. Something great and he wanted to know what or really _who _he actually was.

According to Sarah, he would meet with Professor Dumbledore once a week to discuss history and to continue and learn to separate this life from his past one and with his increasing dreams, it was getting more and more difficult. He didn't quite understand all that was going on. No one had truly taken the time to explain it all to him.

And on top of that, the stares from the other First Life students increased. Not only was he the Boy-Who-Lived, the only one to survive the Dark Lord, but he was also a Second Life student. Most of the students didn't even quite realize what that meant except that it meant that they were special.

And Draco Malfoy wasn't making it easier with his off-base talk about it all.

Then, there were the classes.

Harry enjoyed magic.

It was simple as that.

But, there were some teachers that he enjoyed much less than others.

The classes in themselves were quite fun. His Head of House, Minerva McGonagall and First Life student in her time, taught Transfiguration. The class he attended only had Second Life students in it, meaning, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Malfoy, and Lisa Turpin. The older woman had demonstrated one of her skills, transforming from a cat and back into a woman, before launching into a fast-paced explanation of the theory of Transfiguration and its history.

After that, Harry's hand had cramped and Sarah had had to massage it back into working order much to Hermione's utter annoyance.

History of Magic and Muggles was easily the most boring class that Harry had ever had the misfortune to attend. According to Sarah, History of Magic and Muggles were for Second Life students. It was the study of both Magic and Muggles and how their history continuously intertwined despite the Muggles' ignorance. Professor Binns was a ghost and he droned on, without inflection in his voice at all.

Harry had fallen asleep in the first five minutes.

Then, there was Charms, with Professor Flitwick leading the class. What Harry had expected to be an eventful class had been anything but. Professor Flitwick was a Second Life student, mentor to both Hazel and Lynette. He was a little man and just when he was about to give Course Expectations, Hazel had rushed in, eyes wide and a notebook outstretched.

Flitwick had almost fainted after he saw what had been scrawled across the pages.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was something that Harry had been desperately looking forward to and Harry had been desperately disappointed by it. Professor Quirrell was little more than a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which Lynette and Hazel said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story.

And then, there was Potions.

* * *

><p>"What do we have today?" Harry asked Ron, as they waited for Hermione to come down the stairs so that they could go to breakfast together.<p>

It was the first day that Sarah had allowed them to go to breakfast without her since she had an early morning meeting with Professor Snape. She attempted to get Emmett to escort them but he had pointed out that by the third day, she'd allowed him to go to breakfast alone, confident in his abilities to get around the castle and know the way to and from the dormitory. She had finally relented before running to her meeting, for fear of being late.

"Double Potions with Turpin and Malfoy. Snape is Head of Slytherin House. Fred and George said that he always favors them. We'll be able to see if it's true," Ron said, thoughtfully and Harry's lips twisted into a mocking smile that Ron had grown used to seeing during the past few days.

"I wish McGonagall favored us."

Ron snorted.

"Like that would ever happen."

"Like what would ever happen?" a feminine voice called out and Harry looked up to see his sister slipping down the stairs, her bushy hair in two large plaits on either side of her head and she gave them a tentative smile.

"None of your business," Ron grumbled.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I wish McGonagall would favor us. Apparently, Snape favors Slytherins. Meaning, Malfoy."

Hermione tilted her head in consideration before smiling.

"I concur. _Professor _McGonagall would never favor us. Shall we go to breakfast?" Hermione asked and Harry nodded, offering his arm and Hermione hook her own through it.

Ron simply grimaced before nodding and then they were off and out of the dormitory. They easily navigated the twist and turns that it took to get to the Great Hall. It seemed that it changed every day yet they knew just how to escape the maze. Harry had a feeling that magic was at work.

They finally emerged onto the main staircase and then descended with the rest of the students towards the busy Great Hall. They spotted Lynette and Hazel, already seated at the very end of the Gryffindor table. The end was decked with the strange and older foods of their respective time periods and points of origins. Harry frowned when he heard from the two girls what sounded like an argument.

"You can't just—"

"Lynette, you know I can't—"

"…Might help me…"

"…Not allowed help…"

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked softly and both girls jumped, eyes wide as if they had just been caught in the act of doing something not allowed.

Hazel smoothed down her starched white shirt and she adjusted the red and gold tie around her neck. She shook her head running a hand through her hair and letting out a loud sigh.

"Your Grace! No…no. Mary and I…I mean…Lynette and I…I…I have Charms," Hazel babbled and she stood up. She raced from the room, eyes wide and Lynette stared after him, confusion upon her face.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked, sitting down at a place setting and piling food upon his plate and Hermione sat down across from the redhead, an empty seat next to either of them.

They both looked up at him, expectantly. Harry cleared his throat and gave his sister a pleading look. She pursed her lips and looked away and Harry gave her a smile. He leaned over and patted her cheek.

"_Vi blagodarime_," Harry murmured as he sat down next to Ron.

Hermione gave him a tiny smile and nodded. She sighed and began to place food upon her brother's plate. Harry, in turn, began to serve her, placing the barley bread and oil upon her plate before pouring wine into a chalice for her.

They looked at each other, a slight smile upon their faces, and then they lifted their glasses to each other in salute. Harry looked up as a familiar snowy owl flew towards them and dropped a letter in front of him. He unfolded it and looked down at the messy scrawl before casting Ron and Hermione a smile.

"Fancy going down to meet Hagrid with me after classes?

* * *

><p>A chill ran up Harry's spine and it had nothing to do with the damp chill that the dungeon walls gave off. The gloomy atmosphere coupled with Severus Snape's frigid gaze was enough to freeze water. Harry turned away from the older and greasy man, unable to look at him despite the nagging feeling of recognition in the back of his head.<p>

The man's obvious disdain for Harry had become a well-known fact that he didn't try to hide in the least. As the man called roll, his lips curled into a sneer as spoke out Harry's name and he threw him a look of utter hatred.

"Ah, yes," he said, softly and with utter malice. "Harry Potter. Our new—celebrity."

Draco Malfoy sniggered and Harry looked up with narrowed eyes.

In a thick Macedonian accent, he drawled, "Yes. That is I."

Snape's eyes narrowed at the accent and he said nothing, simply proceeding onto the next name, Malfoy's. As he finished roll, he slammed down the short scroll and threw the small group of students a narrow eyed look.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," the man began. His voice was soft but had an undertone of threat.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed his speech and Harry couldn't help but arch his eyebrow in surprise. He glanced at Ron and the boy's eyebrow was raised as well. They exchanged looks before Harry looked over at Hermione. She was on the edge of her seat and she looked absolutely frantic to prove that she was not a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape snapped suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry frowned and he glanced at Hermione as her hand shot up.

"I do not know."

Snape's lips curled into a mocking sneer.

"Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything."

"I expect it isn't. I haven't experienced it enough to tell," Harry said, sharply. Snape gave Harry a bottomless black glare and he leaned forward, looking positively disgusted.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your cheek. Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape challenged.

Harry frowned. He had looked through his copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _but did the man truly expect him to know?

He glanced at Hermione and she was practically standing up, waving her hand through the air. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder and pushed her down into her seat. Hermione glanced at him, made sheepish by her behavior. She slowly lowered her hand and Harry nodded.

"I do not know."

"Though you wouldn't open a book before you came, eh, Potter?"

Harry's eyes flashed.

"I apologize for not memorizing everything in the book. That's my fault," Harry said, coolly.

Snape's glare intensified.

"Five more points from Gryffindor. For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. Well? Why aren't you writing this down?"

Harry whipped out his parchment, his ink well, and a quill and began scribbling down the notes. He disliked Snape but he didn't want to give the man another reason to hate him when he had done nothing to earn his dislike.

The class didn't improve as it went on. Snape put them in pairs and thankfully it was Hermione, who seemed to know all of the course work that was to work alone. He had set them to make a simple potion to cure boils and he swept about the room, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing Turpin and the Gryffindors. Despite the fact that Turpin and Malfoy were paired up and that she was Ravenclaw, it seemed that Turpin was 'idiot girl' and Malfoy was altogether perfect.

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeons an hour later, Harry was positively fuming and his eyes narrowed.

"That man is foul and I didn't do a thing. I even apologized for not know every single thing about potions and still I lose twenty points for Gryffindor," Harry snarled under his breath as he walked up the stairs and Hermione placed a reassuring hand on his elbow as they walked.

"Cheer up, mate. Snape's always taking points off of Fred and George," Ron said, reassuringly and Hermione looked hesitant.

"As much as I loathe to repeat what Ronald said…cheer up. Harry…just ignore the man. It's not your fault. As you said, he's just foul. Now, I believe that we should go start on our homework if we're to meet Hagrid on time."

* * *

><p>At five to three and with permission from Sarah, the three first years trekked out of the castle and made their way across the grounds and to Hagrid's small wooden house. As they came to the entrance, they saw the large crossbow and galoshes that were laid right outside of the front door.<p>

When Harry knocked, they heard a frantic scrabbling and loud vicious barks. Then Hagrid's voice shouting, "Back, Fang—back!"

As the door was pulled open, Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack.

"Hang on. Back, Fang!"

He let them in, cautiously as he struggled to keep a firm hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. Harry looked around and tilted his head as he examined everything. There was only one room in the small hut and various meats hung from the ceiling. There was massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it in the corner and a kettle was hanging over a fire.

"Make yerselves at home," Hagrid said as released the dog that Harry assumed was Fang.

The large dog bounded over to Ron and started licking his ears. Ron laughed and patted the dog, excitedly.

"This is Ron. And this is Hermione," Harry said to Hagrid as the large man poured the water into a teapot and set out a plate of rock cakes.

"Another Weasley, eh? And Hermione…you walked in holding hands with her, right? You called 'er yer sister," Hagrid said, recalling the night of their Sorting and Harry nodded.

Hermione gave Hagrid a shy smile.

"Yes, she's my sister…we're both in Second Life and we've found out that she _is _my sister. Well, was. We had the same parents in our first life," Harry explained and Hagrid made a noise in the back of his throat, showing that he understood.

"Yeh know, Ron, I spent half me life chasin' yet brothers away from the forest."

Ron laughed and nodded and began to recount how many times his brothers got in trouble at home. Harry turned to Hermione nad she seemed to be intrigued by a piece of paper that was half underneath the table. She took a sip of her tea and grimaced as the taste before leaning down and picking up the newspaper.

Harry blinked at the title of it. The Daily Prophet.

_**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**_

_**Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.**_

**"**_**But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.**_

"Hagrid! This Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday. It might have been happening while there," Harry said, sounding excited and Hagrid didn't meet his eyes. Hermione's eyes narrowed. Hermione leaned over.

"Did Hagrid empty a vault earlier in the day when you were there?" she whispered and Harry's eyes widened and he looked down at the plate of rock cakes that Hagrid had pushed towards him.

"Never mind. I'm being paranoid," Harry said and he took a rock cake though didn't take a bite out of it.

He was afraid that he'd break a tooth.

He glanced at Hermione and she gave both him and Ron a look. They would surely talk about it when they finally got back to the room.

* * *

><p>Sarah looked up as Harry, Hermione, and Ron entered the Second Life Gryffindor Common Room. She tilted her head as she watched them move together towards the fire. They easily side-stepped Emmett without even seeing him. It showed how well that they had assimilated to the unorthodox bunch. Sarah hoped that they weren't up to anything. She leaned forward, closing her Life Journal.<p>

"Are you three going to start on homework before dinner?" Sarah asked, quietly and the three looked up, sharply as if they had just been caught as doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.

"Yeah, Sarah, we'll start it now," Harry said and he opened his bag, giving his companions meaningful looks so that they would both follow his example.

Sarah gave them a shrewd look but nodded and opened her book again, writing out her latest dream and findings about her time period. Despite knowing who she was for two years, she still had those strange dreams and they had come more and more this past week. Since Aleksandar and Kleopatra had arrived, truth be told.

The fifteen-year-old woman frowned as she heard tidbits of the conversation that the three first years were having.

"…break-in on my birthday…"

"…took it out. He must have," Hermione murmured and Ron nodded in agreement it seemed and he leaned forward, intent on keeping this quiet.

"…in there was definitely important. Do you know what…"

"…don't know…have to find out."

Sarah sighed and looked back down at her journal, conflicted about what she had to do. Even now, millennia later, Aleksandar still looked for trouble…or at least, trouble looked for him.

* * *

><p><em>Lanike watched as Aleksandar mounted Buchephalus, easily. Kleopatra stood next to him, looking up with worried eyes and Aleksandar gave her a strained smile. He reached down and stroked her auburn curls and his straining smile great slightly more genuine. Kleopatra took a step back, looking to the other side of Buchephalus and her eyes hardened as they fell upon Adonis Karatasos. Lanike tilted her head, as she watched Kleopatra's hostility.<em>

"_Will you return home?" Kleopatra murmured, her parting the same every time Aleksandar left to return to Miez, to Aristotle and the other Macedonian noble children._

"_I will always return home," Aleksandar said and Lanike frowned as the young man turned his green eyes from his sister and onto the man whom had captured his affections._

_Kleopatra's ire seemed to increase the longer that Aleksandar watched his __erastês with such affection and admiration. Lanike brushed her dark hair behind her ear, tilting her head as she watched. Aleksandar turned back towards Kleopatra and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead._

"_Will you miss me?" Adonis asked, a playful smirk on his face but his red eyes spoke volumes of seriousness and Aleksandar looked at him, almost disbelievingly._

"_Of course…of course I will miss you. How can I not?" Aleksandar said, softly and Adonis nodded, taking step back._

"_And I you."_

_Aleksandar gave a faint nod and he turned back to Kleopatra whom stood, watching him with heavy-lidded eyes. Aleksandar nodded to her and held his hand out to her. She grabbed his hand and leaned forward, her eyes staring intensely into his own._

"_DoJdi si doma naskoro, brat."_

_Come home soon, brother._

"_I shall."_

_Aleksandar took off atop his mighty beast and Kleopatra watched him off, her eyes holding an unknown emotion. She frowned and turned to look upon Adonis, her face hardened and full of foreboding. Kleopatra straightened, holding the appearance of the princess the she truly was. Her flowing white chiton and blood red himation only added to the slightly imposing vision that she made._

"_You…you made my brother choose you over our own mother. You made me choose over my own mother. I should have you killed," Kleopatra threatened, angrily and Adonis gave her an easy cold smile that chilled Lanike to the bone and actually made the nurse worried for the young princess._

"_You should. But you shall not, will you, mikrí̱ prinkípissa?" Adonis said, muttering the mother language to the ancient Macedonian dialect and Kleopatra's eyes narrowed on him._

"_And why shall I not?"_

"_Because your brother would be devastated. And you do not wish to anger the basileus," Adonis said, quietly and Kleopatra's eyes widened._

"_That is treason. Acknowledging Aleksandar as the basileus when it is still my father that rules this land. He shall have you executed if you speak as such in more company," Kleopatra said, sharply and Adonis' lips quirked into another cold smile and he tilted his head, sizing the girl up._

"_But, he shall not hear me speak those words. And neither have you. Run along, prinkípissa. I have much to do and it does not involve you."_

_Kleopatra shook her head._

"_I'm not finished with you. What is your goal here? Do you truly care for my brother at all? Or is it because he __**may **__be come basileus when older? What do you have to offer to him?" Kleopatra asked, firing off questions and Adonis actually looked impressed for just a moment and his small smile grew into a chilling grin._

"_I have much to offer him. But, none of it concerns you. You do not concern me. My only concern is the future basileus. Not his stupid, powerless sister."_

_Adonis turned from her, showing how much respect he held for her and he walked towards where Lanike was standing. As he walked past her, she felt the air grow cold and she glanced at him, sharply and gasped. A bloody gaze held her rooted to her spot and she felt her knees buckle as something unnatural brushed past her, caressing her and making her skin crawl._

"_As archísoun oi Agó̱nes. Boreí oi pithanóti̱tes eínai pánta ypér tou ."_

_He moved past and Lanike swallowed. She had never been very good in learning the mother language be she did know some and she did know what that all meant. And she wondered what had made Adonis say those words for they were quite…strange…_

_Let the games begin. May the odds be ever in his favor._

__:::

**A/N: **So, things just got strange. Sorry that it has been so long. Over three months. I'm really sorry about that. I kind of got a block and then I was finishing up my super long epic Inside My Mind. Well, I got bored with the sequel and I have a dreadful block. I know what I want to end it with but I don't know how to get to the ending without skipping long periods of time. I have to put in a bunch of shit. But, that's besides the point. Things just got really weird. I didn't know I was going to make Adonis/Tom weird.

Well, those last words that he spoke are going to be a bit like his catch phrase. I promise you. He'll be saying that all the time. I don't know why yet and I'll justify it but I had a dream last night and he spoke those words in Greek. Note, I don't even know Greek but I kind of just heard those words and I wrote out the English today and my friend translated and when she spoke them for me, I realized that was exactly what he had spoken in my dream.

So...hope you enjoy.

Tell me what you liked, didn't liked, wish to see. That kind of stuff.

Reviews are LOVE. And we all need a little bit of love on this hell-driven Earth.


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